


Come Horrors or High Queens

by Anguisette90



Series: High Water [6]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Canon-Typical Harry Shenanigans, Canon-Typical Violence, Dealing With Trauma, F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/More Hurt, I Blame David Eddings, Ship all the ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:52:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 57,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anguisette90/pseuds/Anguisette90
Summary: "But now I come to you willingly. For a year, I listened to my heart and not my mind. I thought I’d found love. Now I realize, my heart actually gives pretty bad advice. Just about every bad thing that's ever happened to me has been because of some stupid thing I’ve done for love. So, I'm done fighting. You say Winter doesn’t love? Sign me up. I’m finally ready to bat for the winning team.”“I see. I am to believe that you went from manic raving to loyal servant just like that? That you are suddenly fine with what has been done to you?”“No.” My knuckles popped as my fists clenched tight. I gave her my honest answer. “I will never be fine with it. I cannot, will not, ever forgive this. No matter the reason, it was unacceptable.”Well, sure, everything has dissolved into chaos and Harry's stuck in the middle of fairy intrigue, uncertain of what's true or real or even what comes next. But impossible is just another word for him, right? Everyone else seems to think so. Yet as events unfold, Harry can't help thinking he's finally found an impossible problem that even quick thinking, will, and wit can't overcome. And he has no one to blame but himself.
Relationships: Molly Carpenter/Harry Dresden
Series: High Water [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595575
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

“Well,” I said to no one in particular. “That sucked.” I took it as a good sign as I wiped away tears. If my dreams of Molly and I were becoming nightmares, maybe it meant that in her absence the damage she had done to my mind was healing. It didn’t make it hurt less. “But it’s something,” I said, to the tray of food sitting on the table waiting for me. “I’m talking to breakfast. That can’t be good. I need to get out of this room before I go completely nuts and you start talking back.” I eyed the apple suspiciously. “You’re _not_ going to start talking back, right?” The apple was wise enough to stay silent. I ate it anyway, just in case.

I spent my tenth 'day' of confinement banging on the walls and door. “Hey! Heeeeey! I want to talk! I have questions! Heeeeey!” I continued on like that but never got an answer. When the door finally opened I got excited, but it was just another tray of food, which floated in to land on the table beside me. I yelled out that I demanded to speak with Mab but since I wasn’t even sure there was someone there, I wasn’t surprised when no one showed. The evening brought me another dream that ended in a nightmare, almost the exact same one I'd had the night before but with different rooms. On day eleven I smashed the chair and started banging on the walls with the legs, in case my fists hadn't been enough. More to occupy myself than out of any real belief that it would help, I started singing at the top of my lungs as well.

Day…seventeen? It was hard to say. I didn’t trust that I was keeping track properly. Or sleeping properly. Or thinking properly. Sleep was the enemy now. My nightmares were getting worse and I wasn’t so sure that it was a good thing anymore. They still felt real, almost like memories, but they spiraled out of control rapidly. The house would start collapsing with Molly and Maggie inside. I’d kiss Molly only to find the Winter Lady as I’d Seen her when I pulled away. The most haunting evening featured me pulling Molly’s pregnant belly off her body like it was a costume to get to the child inside, only to have him melt in my hands like candle wax beneath a flame. I imagined I could still feel him literally slipping through my fingers even when I was awake. I reminded myself that no such child had ever existed but it wasn’t much comfort.

So on or around day seventeen I finally took that leap over the line from desperate to crazy. I ate my first meal and when I was done, my first step was to dismantle the table, removing the legs and setting them aside for now. With the tabletop flat in the center of the floor, I used my shard of mirror to dig into it, whittling away a small basin at the center. With that done, I stabbed the mattress, pulling out a chunk of the stuffing and setting it in the carved bowl. I tore strips off the sheet and added a few of those as well. Satisfied with the nest I’d made, I smashed my chair against the wall a few times until I had splinters in enough varying sizes for my purposes.

It didn’t take me long to get everything set up. Just like I’d shown Maggie on our trip ( _had that happened_? I wondered idly), I took the smaller bits of kindling and stood them up in a teepee formation over the quicker burning stuffing and cloth that would serve as my tinder. The hardest part was getting it to light. I banged the manacles together at an angle, trying to produce a spark but whatever metal they were made of seemed to resist. Instead, I was left to the mercies of friction, rolling a sharpened fragment of chair rapidly between my hands. My palms blistered and were slick with blood before the damn board even started smoking and my mantle was the only thing making the pain bearable, but eventually, I was rewarded with that beautiful glowing ember, which I quickly moved into the center of my tinder, gently blowing until it finally caught.

Then I wrapped the damp washcloth across my mouth and nose and stretched out on my belly to wait. It didn’t take long for the kindling to catch as well and in short order, there was a small but strong fire going in the middle of the room. Smoke licked at the ceiling and walls and my eyes started to burn. I took shallow breaths, staying low to the ground and really hoped this gamble paid off. Once it was already in action, even I had to admit it wasn’t one of my best plans. Sure, if I was being monitored it would get someone’s attention pretty quick. But success relied on A – the fact that someone was actually watching me at all times and B – Mab cared enough about whether I was alive or dead to intervene. I was as close to 100% sure as I could reasonably be that those were both the case, but that wasn’t close enough to keep me from panicking as the room started to fill with smoke.

I also hadn’t accounted for the fact that while I’d been in my share of burning buildings before, the last one I’d really been in had been my own apartment, and the second my eyes started to burn I was brought right back to one of the worst nights of my entire life, when my whole world had become nothing but oppressive heat and smoke and a grueling empty hopelessness. I hadn’t been good enough to save the day then. I had only succeeded in fucking up so badly that I backed myself into a corner and had to come crawling to Mab with my tail between my legs to even have a shot at saving Maggie. Why had I thought I was any better now? Why had I thought I would ever be enough to keep Maggie and Molly safe? And now here I was, about to die in a fire I started. Even with the foresight to soak my clothes, the heat was getting to be too much. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, and I knew with certainty that I was going to die here.

“You’ve always had an affinity for pyrotechnics.” The flames were gone as if they'd never existed, leaving just charred fragments of wood and soot-stained walls behind as evidence. The room was still stiflingly hot, but it was more 'windowless apartment with no air conditioning in mid-July’ than 'holy shit my skin is going to melt'. My godmother stood over me with thinly veiled amusement, the door still open behind her. I peered around her legs into the hall beyond, visible enough to confirm that I was indeed in Arctis Tor but not enough for me to gauge where I was. “I admit, I do not understand how you thought this would aid in your escape.”

“Lea, thank god.” My body was shaking with adrenaline but I managed to make it to my feet. “I’ve never been so happy to see you. You have to help. I'm going crazy here. I need to get out and see something besides these same four walls.”

“I cannot aid in your escape.” She said sadly. “You must remain here at the Queen's pleasure.”

“Not escape,” I corrected quickly. “Just, something to do. We can walk around the castle. Even just in the hallway. Please, I'm starting to lose it.”

Her brows furrowed in a deep frown. “You are not to leave this room for any reason. Mab does not wish to risk losing the progress you've made to a chance encounter with the wrong person.”

“You mean with Molly.” I wasn’t asking, but she nodded anyway. I felt my expression darken. “How long have you been reporting our plans to Mab?”

“I’ve been reporting your movements to her since the night of your birth. Not quite as long for Molly.” She didn’t sound apologetic or try to deny it in any way. “I have never claimed otherwise. She is my Queen and I live to serve. I’ve said it many times.”

I shook my head. “Of course. Of course, you did.” I barked a bitter laugh. “And uh, how long did you know that Molly was infected?”

“I…this is not a subject I can safely discuss, my godchild.” I’d never seen the Leanansidhe look so nervous before. “To put it in mortal terminology I am in remission, but I fear to focus on it too much may bring it back.”

“Fine. How long did you know that she had fucked with my head?”

“I have always done my best to protect you, as I promised your mother. If I knew your mind had been intentionally damaged I would take swift action to aid in your recovery and deliver suitable punishment to the creature responsible. However, I do not make a habit of inspecting your brain, body, or spirit, unless I have reason to do so.”

I grunted. “Guess that’s as direct an answer as I’m getting?”

“I could tell you that I suspected within a day of it happening. That she confessed, tearfully, to me later. And that I have punished her for it appropriately. Is that what you were hoping for?”

“Is it the truth?”

“I cannot lie. Those are all true statements.” She shrugged one shoulder, her red locks bouncing with the movement. “But you are familiar with my kind. Often it is easier to lie with the truth than it would be with dishonesty.”

“Why lie in the first place?” I kicked a fragment of burnt wood across the room. “Would it be so goddamn hard to just say what you mean?”

Lea’s laughter filled the room. “Child, you have no idea how difficult it would be to say what I mean, even a fraction of the time. I might as well not speak.”

“Maybe that would be best.” I snapped. “I’ve had my fill of fairy bullshit for one lifetime now, thank you.”

“If that is what you wish. Perhaps I should leave, that you may enjoy your solitude?”

I held my anger for a long moment, glaring daggers at her but eventually, I let it go with a sigh. “You know I don't want that. Even the headache of conversation with you is preferable to talking to myself.” I flopped down on the bed. “Do you know how long I have to stay here?”

“If I told you that you could see Molly right now, how would you respond?” Despite everything, I felt myself perk up and she smiled sadly. “Longer.”

I made a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl. “I can't stand much more of this. If she keeps me here much longer it's not going to matter if I've recovered from Molly because I'm going to lose my mind anyway.”

“I cannot defy my Queen's orders, Harry. Not even for you.”

“Yeah, I got that.” I wrung my hands, bloody and blistered though they were, needing the pain to ground me. “Can you make sure Maggie is safe? Mab said she was but…if you can get her out of here, take her to Karrin or Thomas, they'll know what to do.”

“She is safe. I am keeping an eye on her until you’re ready to return. It is my duty to ensure your duties are fulfilled in your absence.”

“…This isn't like how you kept an eye on Molly while I was gone, right?”

“She is not your apprentice, she is your daughter. I have looked after her in the same capacity that I looked after you when you were a child.”

I frowned, debating how helpful that had really been, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth arguing. She was going to do what she was going to do and at least a fairy godmonster was better than no protection at all. Well, besides Mouse of course. “Don't suppose I could see her?”

“You may not leave. Do you truly wish for me to bring her here, into the heart of Winter? The young ones are so fragile, I do not advise it.”

I perked right up again. “She's not here in the castle?”

“She's quite resourceful.” I would have said Lea's smile was warm if I hadn't seen the same look on her face too many times before. She was proud of my daughter, and that made me uncomfortable. “She evaded capture expertly. She was in your brother’s company when I last saw her.”

“Mab said she was safe 'for now.’ Does she know where she is?”

“She hasn’t asked. I haven't volunteered the information. But she could easily say that anyone who is safe is only safe 'for now'. There will be times in the future where they will not be. It does not have to be of her making.” Long bone-thin fingers caressed my face and despite myself, I leaned into the touch. It wasn’t Molly. It wasn’t loving or even human contact but I hadn’t realized how starved I was for the simple comfort of skin against skin, of feeling cared for, until that moment. “Harry, you should know better than to listen to the implications of our words without hearing the words themselves.”

“Well gee, I guess maybe I'm not at my best considering I’ve been kidnapped, tortured, found out my 'wife' has been possessed and the son we've been planning for doesn't actually exist. I have nothing to do all day but think about how miserable I am and I only sleep when I absolutely have to because my nightmares are somehow more disturbing than my reality. So if you want me to be up to playing verbal chess with you and your Queen, maybe do something to help with any of that.”

She watched me for a long moment, drummed her fingers once against my face, then sighed. “She is still _our_ Queen. They both are. Do not let your grief cause you to forget who you are.”

“Yeah, yeah. I belong to Winter, Mab owns my ass, I know.” I leaned back away from her touch and she took the hint, returning her hands to her lap. The second half of her statement caught up to me and realization slammed through my brain like a brick through a windshield. “If Molly recovers, she'll still be Winter Lady.”

“Correct.”

“And I'll still be the Winter Knight. I'll owe her the same duties.”

“For as long as she is the Lady and you are the Knight.” She confirmed.

“…Any chance the whole 'consort' thing was a part of the lie?”

“Lady Molly was not lying to you. It is part of the Knight's responsibilities to the Lady to ease the mantle's carnal demands, should she ask it of you.”

I closed my eyes, counted backward from 30, kept my breathing steady. I only sounded a bit manic when I commented, “Slate makes a lot more sense.”

“Lady Molly is not Maeve. Despite my best efforts, she is far too human. I cannot believe that she would force herself on you if you made your opinion on the matter clear.”

“Unless she’s possessed by an Outsider. Then it’s just fine and dandy to mix up my thoughts and emotions and use me like a goddamn sex doll.” The thorn manacles burned at my wrists and I realized I was trying to draw power without meaning to.

“I suppose you’re right. There are many entities, including the adversary, that could persuade her to behave uncharacteristically.”

“Ya think?” I snapped. I wanted to lash out, to scream, to cry. I could feel Winter rising inside of me – it had been on a steady incline for days and in addition to getting harder to control as a result of my self-induced insomnia and general emotional state, I also found myself caring less about it. What did it matter if I lost myself to the Knight and Winter? I wasn’t a hero. I hadn't been for a long time. I'd nearly destroyed the world once to selfishly save my kid and I'd almost done it a second time for a kid that wasn’t even real. I had been prepared to kill an elemental force, upsetting the balance and causing general havoc. And I hadn't even managed to keep the whole family safe for one night. Who knows how my daughter made it back to Chicago from Ebb’s ranch. She was probably better off with Thomas. At least he and Justine were arguably stable together.

“Yes, it's possible,” Lea replied. Apparently, my sarcasm had gone right over her head. “A strong enough power could potentially convince her to obey her pure Winter hunger, ignoring her more human desire to see her loved ones happy above all else. It might even latch on to her deep-seated fear of failing to save the man she loves and use that against her.”

My eyes darted to hers. “Winter doesn’t love, godmother. You mean the man she _loved_.”

“Do I?” She sounded curious, like she was asking herself more than me. “This whole business has me a little distracted.” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion and she smiled at me. I felt my heart sink as she started to stand. _This is the Leanansidhe, Harry. She has tortured you and tried to turn you into a hound for most of your life. Her leaving is not a great loss. Pull yourself together._ It was sound advice. I tried to take it but only settled for disappointment instead of abject despair. I wasn’t ready to be alone again. “I cannot stay with you, my godchild but I will return when I can.”

“How long will that be?” I stood to follow her automatically but she gave me a pointed look and I sat back down, embarrassed.

“I cannot say. Surely within a week’s time for the anniversary of your birth, if not sooner.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “My birthday is next week?”

“Seven days hence.” She confirmed. “Provided you do not take any additional drastic measures between now and then, you will have nothing to fear upon its arrival.”

“So you’re just going to leave me here alone and you expect me to sit quietly and do nothing for a week, waiting for your return?”

“You'll never be a master of the chessboard, godson mine, but that doesn't mean you should resign yourself to playing in the Land of Candy.” She turned, having reached the door and glanced back at me. “I shall see you anon. May you fare well til our next meeting.”

I stared at the closed door for a long while after she left trying to sift through everything she had just said. I had more questions than answers, which was par for the course with Lea, but as I stripped out of my soot-stained and sopping wet clothes (leaving the underwear – I was definitely being monitored and wasn’t eager to give them a show) and started cleaning up the mess I’d made of the room, the first question I asked myself was, “How the hell does The Leanansidhe even know what Candy Land is?” I didn’t have an answer and I didn’t really care, but it was the least dangerous question I had so it’s where I started.

No, I was never going to be the best player on the verbal chessboard when fairies were involved. And I had a bad track record with trying. But I’d spent the last year in an (allegedly one-sided) relationship with a fairy Queen and I’d had a lot of practice with learning to read between the lines. Lea had given me a lot to puzzle through. I replayed the conversation over and over in my head and each time my heart started pounding a little harder because each time I remembered her using the word “loves”, not “loved.” And it hurt like a bitch to hear it. I couldn’t lie, even to myself, and say I didn’t love Molly still. Oh, I’d been trying. Knowing it was a lie, that it was fake, that she’d betrayed and manipulated me, I wanted to hate her for it…but it wasn’t her fault. She was being manipulated herself.

I hid behind that defense but the truth is, even if it had been, I wasn’t sure I could hate her. I told myself over and over that I didn’t love her, I shouldn’t love her, she had fucked with my brain. But it didn’t change the reality – no matter how I got there, I was still in love with her. Knowing I was messed up didn’t make me feel it any less. I couldn’t just shut it off, rationalize it away. I had hoped that with time it would get easier, I would slowly start to convince myself of the reality and from there, heal the damage. _Once this is over_ , I told myself, _I’ll see that Molly doesn’t love me, she isn’t my wife, Winter is just full of harsh demands and she was persuaded to give in. She doesn’t love you_. I had repeated that last over and over. _She doesn’t love you. Winter doesn’t love._ But if Lea had been honest…

I had to wipe tears from my eyes again. Mostly naked, covered in soot and ash, scrubbing at a wall with my filthy t-shirt to try to make it slightly less dirty, and crying while I muttered to myself. Even _I_ thought I was disgustingly pathetic. But my Godmother didn’t speak idly, and she didn’t misspeak. She had said 'the man she loves.’ And that’s exactly what she meant to say. Which meant…what? That maybe some of it had been real? That even if she’d forced me toward her, she hadn’t been acting or forcing her feelings for me. My stomach turned at how hopeful that thought made me. Even if her feelings were real, mine weren’t. I shouldn’t want her to love me. I shouldn’t care or I guess should actively want her not to love me. I’d spent so long trying not to encourage her attention (or, a small part of my brain noted, trying not to pay attention to her in turn) I should be disappointed that she still had feelings for me and would be if she hadn’t put her mind whammy on me. Right?

I felt like I was coming apart at the seams, second, third and fourth-guessing everything I thought and felt. It took a long time to get the walls even remotely close to clean and to push all of the charred wood and splintered bits that hadn’t burned yet into a heap in the corner. The rug was a lost cause. Another meal arrived at some point in my cleaning without my knowledge and I found the tray sitting on the bed. I was almost too exhausted to eat, but I did before curling up on the bare mattress, putting my head on the opposite side from where I’d carved a hole earlier, and settled in for whatever horrors my brain could conjure up for me now.

“No. Please not again!” We were standing on a beach, somewhere sunny and beautiful complete with palm trees and perfect crashing waves. Well, I was standing there at least, wearing my duster and carrying my staff – the old one, that had been destroyed several years prior along with my Beetle. Molly was on the ground with her feet tucked up under her, hugging herself tightly and bowing her head so that she didn’t have to look at me. Her hair was snow white and longer than I’d ever seen it, trailing behind her in the black sand. She was wearing a black bikini that barely covered the essentials, which would have been appealing under other circumstances but I could see her exposed back beneath her hair, could see the way her shoulder blades and the bones of her spine stood out sharply against her skin, jutting and harsh, as though she was wasting away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” It was hard to make out the words through her choked sobbing.

“Well, this is a new one,” I said, looking around with my thumbs hooked in my coat pockets. If she heard me she gave no acknowledgment. “I’ve never been on a beach like this, definitely never with Molly, so I don’t know where we’re going with this but hey, at least it’s not the same old crap.”

Piercing eyes in glowing shades of impossibly pale blue looked up at me through the veil of achromatic hair. “…What?”

“Oh, sorry, keep going. Don’t let me interrupt whatever new and fun way I’m going to be tortured tonight.” I stared out across the waves. I’d never been anywhere remotely close to a beach like this with Molly, but in my dream state, I could admit that I wished I had. I was betting she would have been one of those girls who moved to California and lived on the beach, bronze and beautiful, if I hadn’t ever managed to get her life so twisted up. Was that what this was about? I looked back down at her when I realized she hadn’t said anything. “What? Does this whole lucid dreaming thing ruin it? Sorry. Wake me up and we can try it again. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your entertainment.”

“…Wh-who are you talking to?” Had Molly ever sounded so fragile in real life? I couldn’t think of a time when she had.

“I dunno. I guess my subconscious? That asshole always claims he can control what I dream, but the joke’s on him because he’s part of the same body and if he keeps torturing me every night we’re both going to lose our marbles and then Mab'll probably kill us.”

Her eyes widened and she lifted her head to stare up at me. “H-Harry? Is it _actually_ you?” 

I froze. “Who else would it be?”

Her face contorted, stretching into an anguished grimace. “My subconscious is kind of an asshole too, apparently. Or maybe the mantle’s a bad influence.”

“Molls?” I dropped to my knees in front of her when she nodded. “Is this real? Are you actually here?”

She shook her head, struggling to compose herself enough to talk while she searched my face like she was seeing it for the first time. “I’m asleep. I’ve been on this beach with you a lot lately, but it never ends well. I keep trying to stay awake but...” She ducked her head again. “Sorry. I must have called you here by accident. I’m sure I’m the last person you want to see right now.”

I reached toward her with shaking hands then thought better of it. “My god. Molly. You’re…you’re the only person I want to see. I’ve missed you so much. I.” She looked up just enough for me to catch her eyes. “I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.” She collapsed back in on herself. “I’m a fucking monster. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t even remember doing it. Of course I wanted you to love me. I’ve always wanted that but. Not like this. Not because you have to.”

“It isn’t your fault.” I placed one hand on her shoulder and she flinched like it had burned her but I left it, squeezing gently. “Molly, you don’t have to beat yourself up about this. I believe you. I’m the one who should apologize. If I hadn’t dragged you into all of my messes, you wouldn’t be here and Nemesis would never have targeted you.”

“You are so frustrating.” She complained, laughing through the tears. “I can't tell if that's your normal good guy selflessness or some side effect of me fucking you up.”

“Heh. Not so sure myself, now that you mention it.” She groaned and I squeezed her shoulder again. “Hey, I just mean…I didn't notice a lot of this stuff before we started dating. I messed up bad with you, for a long time and you never complained, never left, never wavered. I don't know if I'm just noticing it now because of whatever you did to my brain or if I'd have realized it eventually on my own, but it's true either way, isn't it?”

“I…I mean, I wouldn't put it like that. You did the best you could, I think, given the circumstances.” She swallowed. “You've done so much for me, even before…you have nothing to apologize for, Harry. Not now, not ever. I'm the warlock. I'm the one who violated your mind and…” Her voice broke into a sob. “And your body too. I’m selfish and evil. I was willing to put everyone, you and Maggie and our little Blip, maybe the whole world, at risk just to get what I wanted.”

“Hey, we do crazy things for–” I tightened my grip on her shoulder. “'Our Blip’?”

Molly cringed. “O-o-our son. Don't worry, I don't expect you to…I mean, you don't have to be involved in…Mab ha-has already f-f-found a f-family for him and–”

“Our son!” The tightness in my chest that had become my constant companion lately grew almost tolerable and a grin I’d almost forgotten split my face. “He's real? You're really…?”

“Pregnant?” She suggested with a wry smile fighting its way across her lips. She unfolded her arms and sat up a little straighter, revealing her swollen belly. “Yes. Really, _very_ pregnant.” She made a startled noise when I started planting kisses all over the bulge where our child still grew, my eyes filled with relieved, happy tears for once. “Harry. It's not. I mean. You don't have to. He's.” I looked up at her and her smile was gone. “Harry. I _raped_ you. You get that, right?”

A storm was brewing in my head and chest, dark and powerful. “Is it still in you? Nemesis?”

“I don't know. I…I don't feel it but…”

“Did you _ever_ feel it? Did it talk to you or appear to you in any way?”

“Never. I guess it didn’t need to, it just–”

“Was it Mab who told you that you were possessed?” I had to fight to keep my voice controlled. Even in the quasi-dream world we were in, I was still fighting for control over the mantle from the sudden rage that filled me. I knew Molly would nod before she'd done it. “And she told you that your pregnancy, _our child_ , was a result of you raping me because you brainwashed me?”

“Yes.” She whispered.

I swore. “Funny. She told me you faked the pregnancy. That it was part of the lies and illusions you've been feeding me for the last year while you pretended to love me.”

“If this baby isn't real someone needs to give my aching back and hips the memo.” She reached out hesitantly and when I didn't object took my free hand. “I never lied to you, Harry. I love you, I always have and I always will. I never meant to hurt you. I would never have done it if I’d known…I should have known this was too good to be true.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure it is. I.” I licked my lips, “If you were going to torture you, how would you do it? What would hurt you the most?”

“I’d make me relive my worst moments – my trial, laying in a hospital bed while Dad told me you were dead, the night I almost killed Carlos, the night we fought about Mab and you threatened to leave.”

“Was any of that as bad as what Mab told you when she captured us?” I pushed her hair back from her face. “Was it as bad as thinking our last year together was all a lie?”

“…No.” She finally admitted. “No, I’d relive all of that a thousand times if it meant I could stop myself from hurting you like this.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead and though she stiffened she didn’t pull away. “And Mab knows that too. We expected her to tie us up and torture us like she did Slate, but she’s spent too long manipulating us into being in just the right place and time to become the Knight and Lady. She can’t afford to break us physically. But she also can’t afford to have us plotting against her.” I kissed her nose and the tears that had been welling in her eyes spilled over. “So she’s breaking us mentally. Once we’re both 'cured' she’ll still have her pawns and she won’t have to worry about us teaming up against her again because we’ll avoid each other – you because you’ll feel guilty for violating me for so long, me because it’ll always hurt to see you and know you were never truly mine, that our life together was a lie.” I met her eyes and held them for a moment before continuing. “But let me ask you, when you said your marriage vows, was any of that a lie?”

“Not a word of it. I can only lie if there’s enough iron in my body. You know that. But I’m sure we can get it annulled, given the–” I kissed her lips, hard and fierce and with all of the desperation of a man who knows full well that it might be his last chance. “Circumstances,” she finished breathlessly when I finally let her go. “You know, you have a really bad habit of cutting me off like that. Your next girlfriend might not be as forgiving.”

“I’m pretty sure my wife likes it, and she’s the only one that matters. This is a setup, Molls. Mab told us both exactly what we needed to hear to distrust each other and ourselves. I don’t know if it’s just to get us back under her thumb or if there’s something more going on but either way, I’m done listening to her.” I pulled my wife towards me, crushing her against my chest. “I trust you. I trust us. Winter may not love but we sure as hell do and I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

She sniffled loud. “God, I’m going to be so pissed if this is just another dream.”

I reached down and pinched her ass which caused her to yelp then giggle. “See, this is real.” I kissed the top of her head. “Last question – did you tell Lea about anything Mab told you?”

Her head rocked back and forth against me. “I haven’t seen her since before my birthday.”

“…When you two were doing your Rag Lady routine…did you tell her what I had asked you to do?” She pulled away to look up at me in confusion. “Just humor me. Did you?”

“Yeah, but I think she already knew. Why?”

“Just confirming that I figured this out correctly.” I kissed her again and we practically melted against each other. “Where are you right now?”

“My rooms in Arctis Tor. I’m not allowed to leave unless Mab shows up to accompany me. I think I fell asleep on the couch. Your mom has gotten really good at sneaking some kind of sleeping concoction she’s made up into my food. Don’t worry, I already made sure it’s safe for the Blip. Although I wish she’d just listen to me. The dreams and the nightmares just make me more exhausted.”

Had anything Mab implied been the truth? I grew more confident with each word. “Don’t worry. I’m somewhere in the castle too. I’ll find a way to get to you and we’ll get out of here.”

“How are you going to do that with your thorn manacles on?” She sniffled.

“I'll figure it out. Wait, how do you know I've got thorn manacles on?”

“You mean aside from the fact that you haven't pyrofuegoed your way over here to find me yet?” A small smile crept across her face then faded just as quickly when her eyes hardened. “Because Mab took me to see you. Your entire ceiling is basically like a two-way mirror. She made me watch you, um, well it looked like you were kinda having a breakdown, as proof that I’d broken you.”

“I thought I'd lost my wife, my son and my home all in one fell swoop,” I said defensively. “How would you have reacted?”

“…Well, it's finally stopped snowing in my room this week. This morning I was even able to take a shower without it sleeting on me. But uh. Yeah. I um. You remember the night I tried, well, the night you told me you loved me for the first time?”

I held her tighter. “Of course.”

“The damage I did to the living room is nothing compared to what I did to my sitting room here.” She looked away. “I um. I’ve also been thinking a lot. About Halloween.”

I heard what she wasn’t saying – she had been considering a repeat performance of her attempt to suicide, on a night when it would actually work. “God, Molls.” I was holding her in a grip that would have bruised a normal woman, afraid to let go.

“I wouldn't!” She backpedaled quickly. “Not with The Blip. It wouldn't have been his fault if he was the product of possession and sexual assault, not fair to take it out on him. But maybe next year…I don't think I could have made it much longer than that, knowing I’d had everything I ever wanted and it was all fake? So no, I don't begrudge you your break down.” She looked over her shoulder suddenly, as if she heard a noise, then back to me. “I think Margaret is about to wake me up. I can hear her voice. I can't stay.”

She looked as panicked as felt. I started to pull her even closer, as if I could keep her here by sheer force, then thought better of it. If I only had a few moments left with her, I wanted to make them count. “I love you, Molly Dresden, with all of my heart and soul, of my own volition. Ask Lea if you need confirmation, but please, please remember this all when you wake up.”

“I love you too.” She kissed me like she was dying and my lips were the cure. “When you wake up, keep up your routine, don’t give yourself away. If you're right, we can't let her know we know. You work on escape from your end, I'll work from my end and hopefully we'll meet you in the middle, your son and I.”

“Be safe. I'll be there to rescue you in no time, you know me.”

“I _do_ know you, so I won't bother telling you to stay safe. Just try not to do anything too stupid and reckless, okay? I've thought I lost you twice now – I don't want to find out if the third time's the charm.”

I grinned at her. “Come on, Molls. It’s not like I’m going to set my room on fire. Again.”

“Again?” She laughed, thumping my chest once. “Damnit Harry, can’t I leave you unsupervised for even a few weeks without–”

I woke in bed in just my underwear, no sheets, and the phantom smell of salty sea air, elderberries and honeysuckle surrounding me.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn’t smile, I didn’t grin, I didn’t shout for joy or weep with happiness. There would be time for that later. Molly was right, we couldn’t let Mab know that we’d figured out she was torturing us. So, I shoved all of my hope and relief down and focused on what I did know – I _had_ been betrayed and lied to, used and manipulated, the only thing that had changed was the person doing it. I wore my rage and fury on my sleeve, letting it wrap around me like a shield.

As it always had before, my room had been reset. Even the faint lingering scent of smoke only came from my unwashed hair and body, the rest of the room having received a much more thorough cleaning than I had given it. I washed myself as best as I could with just a washcloth and a sink and then changed into the clothes that sat folded beside my breakfast on my renewed table. I sat quietly to eat and considered my next move.

Alright, let's say I fell for Mab's lies entirely and Lea only solidified my concerns. How would I react? Or, better yet, how would the Queen of Air and Darkness expect me to react? Clearly, she'd wanted me to break down, as I had. But surely she didn't think I'd be inconsolable forever. So what would she expect me to be on the other side? Angry, definitely. Bitter, maybe? I thought about the aftermath of my relationship with Anastacia and decided that no one would expect me to react with quite as much grace or dignity as she had, but some of it could be repurposed. She had thrown herself into her work, eager to prove that she hadn’t been beaten just because she’d been used. She avoided me (well, we avoided each other, more so now than ever) but when we were forced to work together, she did her best to pretend that nothing had ever happened between us, maintaining a wall of professional decorum a mile wide between us.

So I translated that into being the Knight. I needed to prove to Mab that I was ready to be the Knight again, that I’d do it twice as hard in fact. More importantly, I needed to maintain the illusion that I had given up any desire for a personal relationship, romantic or platonic, with Molly, leaving only our responsibilities to our Court between us. For the Knight, “professional” meant seething, resentful hatred and barely constrained violence and that I could deliver. I continued my exercise routine, adding in a bit of sparring with an imaginary opponent and pushing myself twice as hard at everything else, but I kept my actions controlled while I did it instead of the wild, manic energy I’d had before.

I ate all three meals that arrived every day (and confirmed that yes, they did arrive at regular intervals) and when I wasn’t working out, I used my mirror shiv to whittle away at a piece of my bed frame that I’d broken off, carving it into the shape of a wolf. The animal didn’t matter (though I figured it was one Mab would approve of) but I thought the carving would be a good way to show that I was back in control of myself and that I could focus on the task at hand. More importantly, it gave me something to do to pass the time. It took three days of patience but finally, Mab arrived. The second the door opened I stood, bowing my head in deference and offering her the chair. “Sir Dresden.” She acknowledged, still standing.

“Your majesty.” I bowed a little lower.

“Such obeisance. It is unlike you my Knight.”

“It seemed like the least I could do,” I answered, straightening. “You know, with the whole 'plotting to usurp your throne' thing.” I kept my words tightly controlled. I wasn’t worried about her noticing I was angry, but I didn’t want her to notice it was directed at her.

“You seem in better form than the last time I saw you.” She gave me an appraising look, slowly tracing her way from my toes to my head.

“Yeah, I've,” I clenched my jaw. “I've had some time to…process I guess.”

“I see. And setting fire to your room. Was that part of your processing?” Both eyebrows raised with the question.

I rubbed at the back of my neck with one hand. “Not my best plan, in hindsight. But I didn’t know how else to get your attention.”

Mab pursed her lips. “One would think that perhaps, given your recent traitorous endeavors and your suffering at the hands of a Queen of Winter, you would be eager to avoid my attentions.”

“You’d think that.” I agreed. “But here's the thing. Your Lady violated me, mind and body. And I realized, that never would have happened if I hadn’t been such a moron, treating her like she was anything other than a sidhe Queen. So I wanted to tell you, I'm done being a fool. I'm done trying to make things harder for all of us.” I knelt, head bowed again. “I am the Winter Knight. I belong to you, my Queen.”

I could feel the shift of energy in the room at my words. Whatever Mab had been expecting, clearly this wasn't it. “This is a belated revelation, my Knight. You have belonged to me and to Winter since you slew Lloyd Slate.”

“Of course, your highness.” Still on bended knee, I looked up at her. “But now I come to you willingly. For a year, I listened to my heart and not my mind. I thought I’d found love. Now I realize, my heart actually gives pretty bad advice. Just about every bad thing that's ever happened to me has been because of some stupid thing I’ve done for love. So, I'm done fighting. You say Winter doesn’t love? Sign me up. I’m finally ready to bat for the winning team.”

“I see.” She purred with a private smile. “I am to believe that you went from manic raving to loyal servant just like that?” The sound of her fingers snapping echoed off every wall and corner as if the room was empty. “That you are suddenly fine with what has been done to you?”

“No.” My knuckles popped as my fists clenched tight. I gave her my honest answer. “I will _never_ be fine with it. I cannot, will not, ever forgive this. No matter the reason, it was unacceptable.”

“Yet you wish to resume your duties as our Knight?” She started pacing around me slowly and I held myself still.

“Yes, ma'am. You need something punched, stabbed or magic-missiled just say the word, I’m your man.”

“And what of your other duties, Sir Dresden?” She asked from behind me. I didn’t need to see her face to know her lips would bear a cruel smile. “Are you so eager to get back to the service of your Lady as well?”

I didn’t have to fake the snarl that sprang from my lips. I was offended on behalf of the guy she thought I was, a man who’s very spirit had been broken by the revelation that the happiest year of his life had been a lie. “What do you think?” I snapped. I raked my hands through my hair, pushing the mangy mess back. “Personally, I’d sooner spend another night in your dungeon than let the Winter Lady make me her whore. But as I said, I’m done being foolish old Dresden. If she commands me to her bed now, she’ll be calling the Winter Knight and that’s exactly who she’ll get.”

I looked up and over my shoulder, meeting Mab's eyes for just a second. I thought of Molly, broken and sobbing, so sick with guilt that she hadn’t been eating or sleeping. I thought of my son, the son Mab already had a family lined up for, even though she wanted me to believe he didn’t exist. I thought of how smug she must feel, watching us break down and grieve for each other. The manacles burned at my wrists and I just added the pain to the rest of the fuel for the fire in my eyes and the malicious grin that spread across my face as I growled, “The Winter Knight is always eager to get his hands on a pretty little bitch and give her what she’s asking for, my Queen.”

Frozen berry lips twitched, and I wasn’t sure if she was about to lose her smile or smile wider. “You say that now, but when you are on your back with your sweet, young apprentice astride you, will you be so confident?”

“I don’t have an apprentice. She died when I did.” It hurt to say but in a way it was the truth as well. “That creature you call the Winter Lady? That’s not Molly Carpenter. She doesn’t mean a thing to me. And I don’t intend to let her get me on my back, for what it’s worth.”

Her smile did widen then. “Very well, you seem strong enough. You may resume your duties and move freely _– after_ All Hallow's Eve. I am already being more lenient than I should in allowing you to live. I do not think it would be wise to allow a Knight and wizard who was conspiring against me go free on the day where power is most fluid. Would you not agree?”

“I can see the wisdom in that, yes. Though surely you have nothing to fear from me.” I turned back away before I added: “After all, I couldn’t even kill Maeve myself.” I felt the temperature drop and had to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. It also helped keep off my own smug smile.

Mab took just a beat to recover before adding, “Do not be too hard on yourself, Knight. You may yet be given a chance to redeem yourself ere the month is out.”

“Oh?” I tried to sound eager and intrigued and hoped it would hide the hammering of my heart which sounded thunderous to my own ears.

“Lady Molly is not exhibiting any signs of recovery from the adversary.” She explained, continuing around to stand in front of me again. _Of course she's not you deceitful bitch, because she was never infected to begin with._ “If her condition remains as it is...” She sighed. “I suspect that very soon you will have the blood of yet another Queen of Faerie on your hands.”

“Why me?” I blurted. I'd be upset about my mouth's inability to keep the words from coming out, but since bile was fighting it's burning way up my throat, I figured a few stupid words were better than the alternative. “I just mean, you’re much more powerful. If you go up against her it's a sure thing. I'm not as strong as she is and I'm definitely not as strong as you are.”

“Normally, that is true. But you are starborn. You have the advantage over Outsiders and seem to be uniquely resistant if not outright immune to their effects. Who better to combat the adversary?” She tilted her head to the side slightly. “Are you quite well, my Knight? Did you not wish to 'give her what she’s asking for'?”

“Of course, my Queen.” I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “As long as you think I’m the man for the job.”

The way she smiled at me set off every fight or flight instinct in my body, reminding me that this was a creature much higher up the food chain than me and more importantly, it wasn’t natural. Nothing in the ancestral environment smiled like that. Nothing that belonged on the mortal plane ever had. It was a mockery of a smile, of human emotion, and it was the visual equivalent of that high-pitched static feedback noise that just sets your teeth on edge. “Only time will tell, Dresden. But I sincerely hope you are.” Thankfully she turned, heading for the door because I couldn’t stand that look any longer. “I'll send someone for you after All Hallows has passed. Unless, of course, your services are needed sooner.”

_Well fuck._ I thought cheerfully as the door shut behind her. That hadn’t gone quite as well as I was hoping, given that I was still wearing the cuffs and still trapped in my cell. And of course, there was now the nagging little detail that I had four days to figure out how to escape a room I’d been trying to escape for damn near a month now, without making it obvious that I was trying to escape to whoever was monitoring me, before the Queen of Air and Darkness ordered me to kill my wife for not recovering from the infection she didn't have. _Come on Harry, focus on the solution, not the problem. Life or death stakes and seemingly impossible situations? That's just an average Tuesday. We can do this._ I didn't quite believe me, but I appreciated the thought.

_The thought._ Fact: Molly was in the castle. Fact: She had, at least once before, been able to speak directly into my mind. Fact: I’d never managed to establish a telepathic connection with someone without knowing where they were in relation to me, usually in direct line of sight, but it couldn't hurt to try. _“Molly! Molls? Earth to Molly, can you hear me?”_ I kept at it for the rest of the day but still hadn’t had any success by the time my eyes started drooping. _Not to worry_ I thought _I've been searching for her mentally all day. Maybe I'll be able to find her in our dreams again tonight._

It was a familiar nightmare, the pain and horror greeting me like an old, estranged friend – one I’d never wanted to see again. But there I was, surrounded by the scent of blood, standing before an ancient altar with a knife in my hand, listening to my daughter softly whimper in terror on the far side. I knew what was about to happen and knew with just as much certainty that I was powerless to stop it. It had, after all, already happened. In dream fashion, I didn’t question it when I looked up and saw Queen Mab where once the Red King had stood, or when the altar changed to a stone table and the knife in my hand became a bronze dagger. It was a given that the woman lying on that table had honey-blonde hair, and her eyes, wide with fear, were the most perfect sky blue. My vision blurred with tears and I closed my eyes over them, pressing my lips to hers. She was already cold, so cold, and I could feel her shaking with terror but she said nothing.

“It is time, my Knight.” Mab's hauntingly melodic voice drifted on the wind. “Do your duty.” I didn’t want to. My hand moved of its own accord and no matter how I fought I couldn’t keep it from happening. Blood spilled hot and fast over my fingers, rushing into the grooves in the table, which drank it up greedily. Molly screamed, a noise of pure agony and terror that reverberated and echoed back to me a million times over. It was all I could hear, all I could think of and I couldn’t stop any of it. I –

“Harry.” Everything around me froze at the sound of Molly's voice. I looked down at the impossibly pale, almost-corpse in front of me but she was just as frozen as everything else, her mouth still open wide in a silent wail. “Harry, it’s just a nightmare. You can control it. Turn it into something happy. It’ll be okay.” And just like that, the whole thing disappeared until it was just Molly and me, and while she was stretched out underneath me still, there was no blood, no knife…and no clothes either. For either one of us. In the end, it was just a dream, but I made the most of it while it lasted.

I didn't have any success at contacting Molly over the next three days. I tried my mother as well but still no luck. I’d been trying to come up with a halfway decent plan for escape and hadn't found one. Oh, I’d come up with plenty of plans, just none that were even halfway decent. So I finally had to settle for another bad plan. I couldn't wait to find out if Mab summoned me to kill Molly. If she commanded it, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to _not_ do it. So I did something stupid. Even for a regular human, I had a lot of practice with being in pain and with ignoring how much pain I was in, and my mantle only made that easier. Once before, I’d dislocated every joint in my hand to get out of a pair of manacles. That had hurt like a bitch, but I'd have done it again if I was capable. Unfortunately, I no longer had Lash's disturbingly detailed analysis of the human body to tell me exactly where I would need to apply pressure to do that this time, so I had to improvise.

I knew before I finished the first step that I was going to regret my actions almost immediately. I had folded up the washcloth and bit down on it, then proceeded to slash at my own skin, just above the cuffs themselves until my wrists and hands were slick with blood. That was the easy part, and relatively painless compared to the next step. I didn’t know how to dislocate enough of my joints to make my hands slide through the metal rings, even with the sanguine lubrication I’d provided. But I was really familiar with breaking bones completely. It's hard to intentionally break your own bones, your body tends to have self-preservation instincts that kick in to stop you, but you'll be amazed what you can do when you’re murderously angry and desperate to save and protect your wife and kids.

I had to move fast before Mab’s watchman noticed what I was doing. Pulling the cuff off my shattered left hand hurt worse than breaking it had. I was a bit more careful with my right hand and managed just to smash my thumb and wrist enough to slide the other manacle over. Even biting down on the washcloth, I was still only mildly muffling my screams of pain. I felt my knees start to buckle, overwhelmed from the torment, just as both wrists were finally free. And then – _POWER._ Winter flooded into my veins without me even having to call it. My mantle had protected me before but the magic of the cuffs must have dampened it because it was like being reborn. As I fed into the energy, my pain became nothing, a minor irritation.

I tore strips from the sheet to tie off my wrists. I didn't need to drip blood everywhere. I washed my hands and, after a moment’s thought, the cuffs in the sink hurriedly. My fingers on my left hand still weren't responding properly, but I managed to use it to hold the table steady enough for me to rip off one of its legs, wrapping it in an awkward but firm grip with my right hand. I squared my shoulders, rolled my neck, planted my feet firmly and raised my substitute blasting rod toward the door. “ _FORZARE!”_

The door wasn’t just blown off its hinges, it was blown halfway down the hallway. I stepped out of the doorway and didn't recognize my surroundings. If I'd ever been in this part of the castle before, I didn't remember it. A cursory look in the nearby rooms gave me no clue and showed no signs of life, so I marched back to the doorway of my cell, pointed the table leg at the ceiling and again sent out a blast of pure, rage-fueled force. Instead of the dust one would expect from the apparent drywall, it shattered and crashed – made of glass, just like Molly had told me in our dream. A pair of very nervous sidhe women stared down at me in shock. “Where is my wife?” I asked between gritted teeth.

“Mortal, the Queen has decreed–”

“ _Infriga!_ ” I shouted, pointing at the idiot who dared to mention Mab in my presence without answering my question. I swung the length of wood toward the other guard. “My wife.” I snarled. “Where is she?”

“Y-your _wife,_ Sir?”

“Lady Molly! Tell me where she is and how to get there _now_ , before I turn your friend the popsicle into a heap of fine powder.”

“I don't know exactly where she is.” She hedged, clearly trying to decide whether she would rather face a murderous wizard now or an angry Mab later. “B-but her rooms are not far. Make a left at the end of this hallway, and then take the third hall on your right. That will put you in the living quarters and–”

“I've got it from there. Thanks, and uh, nothing personal.” She opened her mouth to reply, maybe to question what I meant but didn't make it that far. “ _Infriga!”_ I couldn't afford to have Mab alerted. Every second would count for our escape. I barreled down the hall, following the guard's instructions, skidding around the corner, and slid headlong into someone, taking us both down in a tangle of limbs. I started fighting blindly on pure instinct with the body beneath me. It grabbed the back of my head in a tight grip, pulling me down and…I met my “attacker’s” brilliant blue eyes a second before her lips crashed against mine in an open-mouthed kiss that felt like it lasted a (very pleasant) lifetime.

“I like a show as much as the next guy but maybe now isn't the time or the place, folks.” I looked up sharply from my wife to find a face I’d expected to see even less than hers. Carlos Ramirez looked older than the last time I'd seen him – which only meant that he looked like a burgeoning adult instead of an overgrown teenager. He’d grown his hair out and his eyes had a weight that they hadn’t when we’d first met. Of course, I’m sure I didn’t look the same as he remembered either – especially not with my mop of shaggy, mangy, been-a-month-and-one-fire-since-I've-seen-a-shower-let-alone-a-pair-of-scissors hair, and the growth of hobo-beard that went with it.

“’Los.” I greeted, before remembering that I had yet to actually greet the vision of beauty I was on top of and guiltily looking down. “Molls.”

“Hey, Boss.” She replied with an amused smile, pushing me up until we both managed to right ourselves. “You’ve rescued me from Arctis Tor already. I figured this time it was my turn to saddle up but,” she looked me up and down. “I should have known you wouldn’t wait.”

All three of us tensed at the sound of hurried footsteps from an adjacent hallway, Molly and I instinctively falling into our typical battle stances. “No sign of Harry,” said another unexpected but familiar voice, as Elaine came into view. “But – oh. I stand corrected. Found him.”

“Wow. Thanks. We never would have found him without your help, Mallory.” Carlos quipped, grinning at her. She shot him an amused but long-suffering look that I knew all too well. Before I could continue scratching my head at the increasingly mind-boggling circumstances of the last minute of my life, Molly's hand was in mine (her left, my right thankfully since my left one was still not cooperating), cutting off the questions that were forming on my lips.

“Let's get the hell out of here.” She said crisply, and I stood up a little straighter at the note of command in her voice. “We can talk when we're safe.” She cut a line in the air with one hand and pulled me through a rift in reality into a snow-covered forest. The rift closed the second Elaine and Carlos made it through behind us. Molly didn’t pause for a second, hurrying forward as fast as the uneven, frozen ground would allow. Well, probably slower than it would allow either one of us to travel, but as quickly as it would allow those of us not bound to a duplicitous queen of snow and ice to move. It was thankfully a short trip since even the Winter Knight is uncomfortable trudging barefoot through snowdrifts and pine needles. When all was said and done, we traveled through four or five different portals in both the mortal realm and the Nevernever before we ended up knee-deep in the ocean, looking up at a very sheer and imposing cliff face. I wasn’t sure if it was actually a billion and a half degrees out or if it just felt it after being in Winter for so long, but it was still early morning and I already felt like I was melting in the heat.

“Okay,” Molly said, starting to trudge ahead with business-like determination. “A quick walk from here and Thomas should be waiting for us with the car and – _oof_.” A quick walk to the car was close enough to safe for me for the moment. I picked her up, hugging her tight against me and kissing every inch of her I could until she finally started giggling. “Would you stop? We're kind of in the middle of something important here, Harry.”

“I will not stop, no,” I answered between kisses. “I missed you so damn much. I love you so damn much. I thought I'd lost you both, but you're both here and right now that is the most important thing.”

Behind us, I heard Carlos mutter, “Are we _sure_ he's not brainwashed?”

“Yeah. You wouldn't know it looking at him but he's a sappy romantic at heart.” Elaine answered in a normal voice before raising it to address me. “Hey, I missed my invite to the wedding by the way.”

“Hey, yeah, what's up with that, man?” Ramirez chimed in. I turned to look at him, hefting my wife up a bit so I was carrying her (despite her protests) and could keep walking toward the shore and the waiting cliffs without letting go of her.

“Seriously? You want to know why _Molly_ and I didn't invite you to our wedding?” I felt Molly cringe against me at the edge to my voice. “You can't think of _any_ reason?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment then snapped his fingers. “Right. Of course, but listen, you don't need to worry. While I am younger, more handsome, smarter and more talented than you in every way, I assure you I have no intention of stealing your wife out from under you. Obviously I _could_ , but as a friend, I'm not going to.”

“Carlos…” Molly started, a little angry but mostly fearful. I held her a little tighter.

“It's okay, Molls,” I said softly before addressing the young Warden again. “Come on 'Los. We both know the real reason.” Silence fell awkwardly over the four of us, nothing but the roar of waves before I continued. “I know you're in love with me, and I couldn't break your heart by making you watch me marry someone else. At least now that I'm married you can stop saving yourself for me and move on. It's time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don't flatter yourself. Even if I _was_ gay, my standards have never been low enough for you, Dresden.”

I smirked. “Wow, so I guess Carlos thinks you both have low standards.” I had turned around so I didn't see Elaine’s face but I heard her laugh and it sounded a lot like she agreed with Carlos. “It’s nothing personal, toward either of you. We were keeping it pretty hush-hush, along with the baby, so that our boss wouldn't find out. But so much for that, I guess.”

“In hindsight, I don't know why I ever believed she wouldn't just know. She probably knew immediately and just bided her time.” Molly added, her frown deepening. “In fact, I think she knew I was pregnant before I did. The night before you proposed, when she caught us? After you left she threatened that she was going to follow you to 'claim what was hers' and 'give you the gift I, as a Lady, could never give’. At the time I thought she was just trying to hurt me. Now I'm thinking maybe she was goading me into confessing to something I hadn't even figured out yet.”

I took a moment to unpack and process that before responding. I had chalked up Molly's series of freak-outs in the wake of that night to pregnancy hormones and the increasing weight and demands of her mantle as she stretched it from maiden into mother, and I'm sure that was a lot of it. But if from her point of view I had betrayed her trust by following Mab’s orders over hers and then Mab had turned around and threatened to coerce me into sleeping with her so she could bear my children, something Molly had already been insecure about…I shuddered at the thought. One romp in the hay with Mab was still two times too many for me and being inextricably tied to her with a child? If Molly had managed to save me from that fate, I was even further in her debt. “She's a monster.” I snarled.

“We’re both monsters.” She snapped back, and it was odd to hear her so angry without any of the cool tones of Winter in her voice. “She made sure of it. And she’s about to find out just how much of a monster she’s really created.”

When we hit the beach, Molly directed us toward a narrow path that wound it’s way up the side of the cliff and sure enough, when we reached the top and followed the trail to a small, roped-off gravel lot, there was a large black van waiting for us, with my brother's head stuck out the window. “One of these days we’re all going to get sick of bailing your ass out of these situations you know.” He said by way of greeting. I tried to flip him the double-bird but my left hand was still stubbornly refusing to comply.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Molly swore, noticing the mangled state of both hands for the first time, and if she sounded like her mother when she said it, it would take a braver man than I to point it out. “What did she do to you?”

“I uh, I may have done this myself.” We climbed into the back of the van, sitting cross-legged on the floor since there were no seats to speak of and I avoided her disbelieving gaze the entire time. “I needed a way to get out of the handcuffs.”

“What did I say? I told you not to do anything too reckless and stupid. So what did you do? Broke your hands. Even for you, this is going to take weeks to heal and we don’t have weeks, Harry. You couldn’t just stay put and wait for us to rescue you.” She was grumbling, but I could hear the worry and the relief and I understood. She almost lost me, just as surely as I’d almost lost her, and the fear, being confronted by the fact that life could change in an instant and the whole world could be ripped out from underneath you, it lay heavy between us. She took my hands in hers and I felt power ripple through me a moment before gut-wrenching pain followed. I gasped and she winced, looking just as pained as I felt. “Sorry, they’ve already started to set so I needed to straighten them out. Elaine, can you…thank you.”

Before Molly had even started asking Elaine came forward, knelt in front of me and placed her hands on top of mine, so they were sandwiched between hers and Molly’s. She muttered quietly under her breath and then I felt her energy flow into me. I hadn’t realized until that moment how alike they were, how similar they felt to each other. Both gentle, yet fierce. Tall and willowy, the wheat and honey hair. Elaine’s was darker, especially now, and even before the baby Molly's body had always been curvier but I had to smile at the similarities, wondering if it was a coincidence that my first love and my last love had so much in common. It was something to focus on other than the pain that was threatening to consume me even through the mantle, at least. The soothing force of Elaine’s magic melded with Molly's, directing it, and gradually the sharp bite of agony subsided to a dull ache.

“Moron,” Elaine said fondly, stroking her fingers over the backs of my hands lightly. “You did a number on yourself.” She nodded in Molly’s direction. “Thank the powers that be that you've got this one. If she wasn't so determined to find you, you might have never gotten full use of that hand back.”

“That's the least of the reasons I have to be thankful for her,” I admitted, leaning over to kiss Molly soundly. “And I don't need any more reminders of that right now. So what's the plan?”

The plan, as it was, was to drive an hour to a safe house. Apparently it _was_ a billion degrees out (or, y’know, almost 90, same difference) because we were in sunny California, where Carlos 'knew a guy’ who owed him a favor, and had loaned us a house to use as a base of operations. Once we rendezvoused with the rest of the gang there, we'd hammer out a definitive plan of action. “This doesn't change much, honestly,” Molly told me, curled up against my side with her head on my shoulder. We'd been sitting like that, with my arm around her, for most of the car ride. “It might make it easier. We don't need to find a way to lure her to us. _We're_ the bait.”

“Yeah, but we no longer have Lea to direct the troops.” I pointed out.

“Why not?”

“…Because she ratted us out to Mab? Obviously, we can't trust her.”

“Did you trust her before?” Molly sounded surprised. “I should have sworn her to secrecy. That's my fault, not hers. Of course, she reported our movements to her Queen. How could she not? That doesn’t mean she wasn't genuine in her dedication to the cause.”

She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world and my stomach flip-flopped for a second. I don't know if it was the increased power of her mantle as she got closer to her due date, the month she'd spent in Faerie or the weeks of grief and heartache taking their toll on her but I had to acknowledge she was more Sidhe-like than I'd ever seen her. What would she be like when she had the full mantle of high Queen? Even if we both survived and managed to kill Mab, would I still have Molly after? I had to push the thought aside. I'd stopped trusting her before and it had almost destroyed us both.

“Although, now that you mention it, if we lure Queen Bitch onto Demonreach, someone has to guard the Gates. She’ll ask the Leanansidhe to do it. I guess we’ll just have to make do without any fae troops. It should be fine, the important thing was that they lend their support so I don’t have to deal with a coup as soon as we end her. I mean, if it comes to a full-on battle we've already lost anyway, right?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” It wasn’t a comforting thought. “But hey, we have more allies than we expected. How did you two get involved in this mess?” I addressed the other side of the van where Carlos and Elaine sat grimly watching us.

“Margaret called McCoy,” Thomas called back from the cab. “He marshaled his forces and rallied the troops.”

“I’m the forces _and_ the troops, apparently,” Ramirez said wryly. “When Elaine found out you were in trouble, she refused to stay out of it. Even though I told her this was a job for Council-level talent.” Something in the way he said it led me to believe he knew as well as I did that she’d intentionally flunked the Council's tests.

“And I stand by what I said.” Elaine drawled. “I’ll rebreak every bit of you I’ve fixed if you need me to prove myself to the likes of you, Warden.”

“That how this started?” I asked. “You nursed him back to health and then started playing doctor?”

Elaine punched Carlos in the arm. “Pay up. I told you he’d figure it out.”

“What?” Molly sat up, eyes darting back and forth between the two.

“Well, you see,” I explained in my best detective voice. “Ms. Mallory here apparently has a thing for younger men.”

“I'm sorry, I thought I almost heard judgment in your tone, but I know that can’t possibly be the case since I’m only ten years younger than Elaine and Molly is, what, twenty years younger than you?” Carlos quipped, his naturally bronzed skin not quite dark enough to hide the flush of his cheeks.

“Fourteen.” Molly supplied.

“I’ve got you both beat.” Thomas chimed in.

“Eugh. I think this one’s more like golf, pal.” I replied, disgusted at the fact that I was related to him for not the first time in my life. Molly started laughing hysterically next to me.

“Yesterday, that’s what you meant.” She choked out and when she finally caught her breath clarified, “I tried to apologize, again, for. Well. For Alaska. And he got all philosophical about how things happen for a reason and how in some ways I’d actually helped him.”

“Not the best wingman I’ve ever had, but it worked. Eventually.” He grinned with a sidelong glance at Elaine. I caught her watching us both warily under her smile. She knew me too well. But I just smiled back. The truth is, I couldn’t be bothered to care what either one of them did and with whom. She was my past, he was Molly’s and maybe a year ago I’d have been pissed off at them for hiding it from us, at him for sleeping with an ex, at her for sleeping with a friend, but I was past that. Molly was my present and my future and as long as I had her, I didn’t give half a shit what anyone else was up to.


	3. Chapter 3

The house sat at the end of a long winding drive behind a tall privacy fence and two different gates with keypads. It didn’t look like where you’d plot to overthrow the government of Faerie and upset the natural balance. It looked like where a politician’s large extended family might spend their winter vacations, serene and posh. The cargo van we were piled in looked out of place next to the splendor of the estate but since it had allowed us to travel without risk of being seen until we were safely behind the wards that had been thrown up around the property, I couldn't complain.

We came in through a garage door, into a kitchen the size of our living room at home. I could hear raised voices coming from somewhere ahead of us, arguing loudly. “This whole damn thing is a suicide mission,” I heard Ebenezer snarl. “I know Harry has some kind of odd charisma that makes all you idiots go along with his half-baked schemes, but not everyone is so willing to risk life and limb and the very planet we’re standing on to help the kid.”

“No of course not.” Mom shot back. “But surely even with their heads buried ten feet up their own asses, your Council must be able to see the advantages of being the ones to help the new Winter Queen and her husband take the throne.”

“They're not _my_ Council, Maggie.” He said in the tired tone of a man who's had this argument more times than he can count. “I'm not the Merlin. I can't order them to help. And it's only advantageous to help us if we succeed. If we don't, they’ve violated the Accords and gone to war against the fey. None of us are eager to go back to the old times. And maybe if you hadn't gone out of your way to burn every bridge that's ever been built for ye' it wouldn't be so hard to convince folks to help out your son every time he needs it.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“He means if you hadn't been such a screwup people might stop looking at Harry as Margaret LaFey’s warlock-in-disguise screwup son,” Thomas told her wearily, reaching the doorway into the dining room at the same time I did. “Which might have been true twenty years ago. But he's done enough to establish himself as his own screwup, haven't you? Also, maybe you two want to argue a little louder about how doomed we all are with your granddaughter in earshot. Great job guys.” He muttered to himself under his breath while he walked through the room gesturing for me to follow. There was a group assembled around the dining room table which was spread with maps and charts and scrolls and everything you’d expect for a team plotting to take down a centuries-old force of nature. Several voices clamored for attention at the sight of me, but I (rightfully) trusted that my brother knew exactly who I wanted to see first and held up a hand to forestall the tide of questions, following him.

The room had probably once been a parlor or sitting room or some other fancy rich person term for a room that I've never heard because I'm not the sort of person who gets invited to houses that have them. It didn't matter now since it had been converted into the largest blanket fort I’d ever had the privilege to witness. “Hey, Magpie,” Thomas called, a softness there that I’d never heard from him before. “We’re back.”

“…Everybody?” Came a quiet, trembling voice I didn't want to recognize as my daughter’s.

“Everybody.” I empathically confirmed.

“…Did you make sure it's really him?” I glanced sideways at Thomas, who frowned in response before answering her.

“Of course. I wouldn't have let anyone else near you. You know that.” Then, in a low tone I wouldn't have been able to hear without my mantle, he continued, “She's been pretty spooked about the whole thing. Extra paranoid, even for this family. I helped her build the fort because it seems to make her feel a little safer but,” he shrugged. “Inari’s my only kid experience, and she had a relatively trauma-free childhood, so I wasn’t really sure what to do.”

“You did great, Thomas,” Molly assured him, one hand on his shoulder. “I agree. He checks out, Squirt. You want to come out and say hi?”

“No,” I answered before she could. She'd been traumatized once before at the hands of the Red Court and though I'd always feel guilty for letting them get their hands on her, logically I knew there was nothing I could have done. I hadn't even known she existed until after she'd been taken. This time was different. I was her father. It had been my duty to protect her, to keep her safe and to ensure that the rest of her life was as carefree as possible. Instead, I'd managed to leave her alone in the middle of the Missouri wilderness, on the run from Winter fae, and I hadn't come back. I knew what it was like to have no one looking after you, or worse, to have someone and lose them time and again. I could remember being small and scared and alone, wanting to hide in the closet or under the bed because it was safe in the dark closeness. If the blanket fort made her feel safe, I owed it to her not to pull her out of it. “No, I think…do you think I could come in there and join you, pumpkin?”

“…If you want to.” I wasted no time pushing aside the sheet that made up the front door, crawling on my hands (which weren't happy to support my weight) and knees along the pathway formed within the larger tent of sheets and blankets until I passed under another sheet into a large open space. There was a small crack in the blankets that made up the ceiling here, revealing a sliver of skylight in the actual ceiling of the room overhead. It was enough to allow you to get a vague sense of the time of day. What looked like about two dozen pillows had been piled up on one side of the 'room’ to form a makeshift bed, where Mouse lounged with Maggie using him as a backrest, a stack of books and one of the hand-crank lanterns I kept for camping in front of them. She warily watched me enter and instead of shuffling over to her as fast as my knees would take me, I stopped, sitting about three feet away from her.

“I'm glad you’re okay.” She didn't look at me when she said it and Mouse lifted his head to watch us with sad eyes.

“I'm glad we're all okay,” I told her. “I was so worried about you, kiddo.”

She pursed her lips. “Thank you. But you should know, I'm mad at you right now.”

“Oh.” I sat back a little. “Well, yeah. I understand. I should have protected you and Molly when the monsters came but I don't even remember–”

“No. You were really deep asleep. I think they must have used magic on you. You didn’t have a chance to stop it.” I tried not to notice how her hands balled into fists. “I'm mad cause you lied to me.”

“What? Sweet pea, I've never lied to you. You know I don't–” My Knight's reflexes kicked in just in time to snatch the object she hurled at me out of the air. I opened my palm and saw her pentacle inside. Mouse whined as if in pain and I agreed with him. “Maggie…”

Maggie drew her knees to her chest and buried her face between them, hugging herself. She started crying, her hunched shoulders shaking with the force of it and I felt sick. I scooted forward until I could touch the back of her head, stroking lightly. I didn’t know what else to do. One of Mouse's paws came to rest on my leg while he nuzzled the side of his face against her. It felt like my chest caved in when she looked up at me finally and her bright round eyes were red-rimmed and full of anger. I didn’t need Molly's sensitivity to feel the energy of it, hot and volatile.

“You told me we’d always be able to find each other with your stupid necklace. You told me uncle Thomas would be able to help. But you were gone and we couldn’t find you, not with my necklace or Uncle Tommy’s. And we tried a bunch of magic and it didn’t help either. And I couldn't find Grandma or even Grandpa McCoy. And your friends are all useless and kept saying stupid things and, and, and, urgh!” She’d worked herself into a state of frenzy, unable to handle the conflicting emotions she felt. I knew it well. It was easier to be angry, harder when you started to feel things under the anger. She flung herself at me, arms thrown around my neck, and I caught her wordlessly, enfolding her in my embrace. “You told me you weren’t going to go away!”

“I know,” I answered, thankful that her face was pressed against my shoulder where she couldn't see the tears rolling down my face. “I meant it. I came back as soon as I could. I'm here now, baby. I'm so sorry.”

“But you’re just going to go away again, aren't you? Everyone thinks I’m just a kid and I don’t understand but you can't just kill a fairy queen, can you? Most of them haven’t even met her and they’re terrified of her. They would have left you there forever because they were too scared. And now you’re going to fight her and…daddy, what if this time ‘as soon as you can' is never? What happens if you don’t come back?”

There were a lot of things I could have said, platitudes and empty promises and reassuring lies, but I didn’t want to be that kind of dad. Maggie was a smart kid, she deserved better than that kind of condescension. “I thought your Grandma died the night I was born until a few hours before you met her. Your Grandpa Malcolm passed away when I was a little younger than you. And for a long, long, long time I thought things would never be okay again, and I felt like I was lost and alone in the world, even after I was a grown-up. Now, kiddo, I will do everything in my power to make sure you don’t ever have to feel like that. Believe me, I don’t want to go take on Queen Jerkface either, and there is nothing I want more in this world than to just be able to take you and Molly, go home and forget all of this craziness.

“But she threatened you and your brother. She’s not going to let any of us live in peace and we can’t hide from her. I swear to you that I will try my hardest to come back home, but not going isn’t an option. And I want you to know that if something happens to me, you will survive, you’ll be stronger for it. And you’ll find family again, even if they’re not your blood. And one day, if you’re really lucky, maybe you’ll have an awesome kid of your own who will make you glad you survived all that hurt, who you’ll be willing to rearrange heaven and Earth to protect and who will make you forget what it ever even felt like to be alone.”

She sniffled, nuzzling against me, clinging twice as hard. “I’d rather have a boring regular kid and use my luck to still have you.”

I breathed out a short laugh. “Okay. Well, someone once told me that the only luck we have is what we make ourselves. So I'm going to go back into the dining room and listen to Grandpa McCoy and Grandma Margaret argue some more until we can all agree on a plan and hope that I can make enough luck for all of us, how's that?”

“…Okay.”

“You can stay in here if you want to, but if it would make you feel better you can come sit with us while we plan.”

She shook her head. “Ms. Karrin always sends me away when they start talking business.”

“Good thing she's not your mom, huh?” She pulled away just enough to look up at me with an impish smile.

“Mom's not going to like it either. She yelled at me for not listening to Ms. Karrin and Uncle Tommy while you guys were gone.”

“You _should have_ listened to them when we were gone,” I said with a scowl. Maggie had always shown a surprisingly respectful attitude toward her elders (at least for someone in my family) and had doted on Thomas almost as much as he did on her. Now she was eager to disobey, and my friends were 'stupid' and cowardly in her eyes. What had happened in the last month to change my daughter so drastically?

As if reading my mind she said, “If I had listened to them, you'd both still be gone. They just wanted to sit here and wait for you to rescue yourself.”

“What did you do?” I asked, suspicious.

“Didn't mom tell you? I summoned her.”

“You…what?”

“No one who could get us into the Nevernever was willing to do it. I obviously couldn't go by myself. And then I thought about it and realized – if I'm not supposed to make deals with mom because she's a fairy Queen, she must be fairy enough for me to summon her, especially with her true Name. So I told the grown-ups. And they spent so long debating it, they had barely noticed I was gone by the time mom brought me back.”

I laughed and kissed her forehead. “That was a really good idea. But you have to be really careful summoning things because if you’re even a little bit off, you might get something different than what you hoped for.” I thought back to summoning Lea for information and getting Mab instead because she'd been 'indisposed’ and thought we'd gotten very lucky.

“I know. I was as careful as I could be. I used our circle, in the lab. Bonnie walked me through it.” Maggie frowned, clearly trying to decide what she wanted to say. “I had to try. I know I should have listened and waited but I couldn't wait anymore and I'm not sorry.”

I wanted to be mad but I was too proud. And worried. I've never felt more fatherly than that first time I gave her the 'what am I going to do with you?’ smile that parental figures (and the occasional girlfriend/wife) have been giving me my whole life. “Thank you, Maggie. You're right, you shouldn’t have done it. But I'm glad you did anyway, and I'm proud of you. And never do anything like that again without me there in case things go south.”

“If you don't disappear again, I won't need to.” She looked terribly pleased with herself and I just shook my head, fighting with my smile. Somewhere in the afterlife, Susan was laughing (or maybe cackling maniacally) at me.

Our war council raged for the better part of the afternoon. Molly and I went over what had happened to each of us since our camping trip, comparing notes, careful to do our best to remember the exact wording Mab had used. “I don't understand,” Karrin said eventually when we'd both finished. “What's her game plan here? Obviously this was just a temporary distraction for you both, nothing more.”

“Only because we broke out.” I reasoned. “I don't think she anticipated us figuring it out or escaping. She wanted me to kill Molly, and then she'd have probably killed me.”

“No,” Molly corrected. “She wanted to see if you _would_ kill me. She wanted to gauge your reaction. But you were right, she's spent too long manipulating us both. I don't doubt that she'd get rid of us if she had to, but she wanted to try to salvage us first. I mean, a starborn on team Winter?”

“She's had eyes on you since before you were conceived.” Mom agreed. “I never dreamed she'd make you her Knight, but I agree with Molly, she's not letting you go unless she has to.”

“Which brings me back to my point. Why?” Karrin looked back and forth between us. “Even if you didn't escape, how long could you possibly have gone without figuring it out? She'd have to keep you from seeing each other until the baby's born. And even then, did she think you two wouldn't ever talk again? You'll both be around for centuries, right? Eventually, something would come out to contradict Mab’s story. _And_ that's assuming that you didn't talk to any of us.”

“Her goal was to break us both,” Molly said quietly, her eyes glinting with a savage light. “I think she came very close to succeeding. If I had only seen Harry as she presented him to me…it would have been a long time before I allowed myself near him, let alone talked to him. And by then, I’m not sure how much of me would have been left. I guarantee I would have never willingly shown my face to any of you ever again. She might have gotten away with it.” 

“Seems like a lot to risk,” Waldo commented from the other end of the table. “Sorry, I know this isn't my area of expertise but, doesn't that seem like a plan with a lot of things that could go wrong and only a very few ways it could have gone right? Nothing I've read about the Winter Queen leads me to believe she's a gambler.”

“I guess she assumed that if it started to go poorly she could just kill us at that point. Which brings us back to the matter at hand.” Molly gestured at the map of Demonreach in front of us. “How do we keep her from doing that?”

What we came up with wasn’t a good plan. In all our months of plotting, the best plan we’d come up with, and what we were apparently sticking with, was to arm as many of our mortal allies as we could with iron and hope that enough of them could get the iron into Mab to weaken her mantle to the point where Molly and I could take her. Failing that, we were pretty sure I’d be able to work with Alfred to have her contained until we could find another way. We checked in with Sarissa and Fix (who confirmed that things were going pretty well on their end - either Lea hadn't told Mab that they were involved or Mab had elected not to tell her sister) and let them know that the plan was still on. Molly gave Sarissa just the barest overview of what had happened and the Summer Lady managed to find a few words and phrases to shock even my sailor-tongued young wife.

We talked time and logistics, how we’d all get there and when. Ultimately it was decided that late afternoon was best, early enough that no one had to be out on my shiver-inducing prison island after sunset, late enough that the balance of power wouldn’t fall too heavily toward one or the other Queen. Divide and conquer seemed like the best method, so we would handle Mab. Summer had their own team. In the highly unlikely event that one of us succeeded, we’d meet the other group and help out. No one talked about what we’d do after, how we’d deal with Molly, Queen of Air and Darkness, or how we’d fix the imbalance of power that would still exist. Worrying about any of that seemed too much like counting our chickens before they’d hatched, I guess.

We could have stayed there all day talking about inconsequential details, exact alignments and whether to make our stand on the top of the hill or closer to the coast or…it didn’t really matter and anything that we planned would just go to hell anyway, and everyone there knew it. But once we stopped the planning the only thing left was the waiting and the doing. And the waiting is always the worst part of any stupid, crazy, deadly thing you’re about to attempt. The room was tense with it and everyone was starting to get short-tempered.

“Okay, look.” I finally said, shifting Maggie where she rested on my lap so that I could see the entire table. “I’ll take all the help I can get but honestly, I don’t think numbers are going to be what makes the difference here. I’m not asking anyone to lay down their lives for us. This isn't about saving the planet, the world doesn't end if we lose. Its only life or death stakes for those who help. Anyone who wants out can step out now, no hard feelings, no grudges.” I looked at each of my friends and family members in turn and saw nothing but resolve in every face. “Last chance. Going once. Going twice. Fine.

“But if you stay, it's not going to be like this. I've spent the better part of a month in a windowless room the size of a coat closet losing my damn mind. If this is the one day of freedom I get before I bite the big one, I don't want to spend it arguing about petty crap. Somebody figure out what we're eating for dinner, everyone wipe those frowns off your faces and for the love of god, someone find me a beer. It’s almost my birthday, y’know!”

Laughter started, nervous at first but eventually genuine until we were all smiling, albeit crookedly. While a new argument started over who was cooking dinner and what we’d have, I decided to slink away so I could shower and reclaim my face from the tangled nest of matted hair that threatened to consume it. I watched Maggie hurry back into her blanket fort the moment I let go of her to head up the stairs. “She’ll be okay,” Molly said, one hand sliding across my back. “She’s been through a lot. That's not your fault.”

“Isn't it?” I asked. The stairs were broad enough for us to walk side by side, hand in hand. “Maybe that was true when the Reds got her but this...I should have been there. I should have built better wards for our camp, shouldn't have taken her out at all, shouldn't have caused this mess in the first place.”

“To be clear, by 'this mess’ do you mean our marriage and child?” She looked faintly amused but it was clear that she didn't appreciate my implication.

“I…no. But also sort of yes. I am the luckiest man alive to be married to you. And our son? God, thinking we'd lost him was worse than thinking you lied, worse than thinking you didn't care, worse than the actual physical torture. But.” We paused at the top of the stairs and she watched me as I tried to explain what I was thinking without sounding like a total asshole. “But how am I supposed to choose between doing the right thing for Maggie and doing the right thing for you and the Blip?”

“Killing the creature that tortured us and threatened to force Maggie into becoming mini-Maeve is the right thing for all of us. You don't have to choose one or the other.”

“…She asked me not to go. She called me a liar, Molls.” I sighed as she steered me into a bedroom, closing and locking the door behind us. “What if we don't come back tomorrow?”

“We will.” She had a far-off look in her eyes but she sounded confident. “The scales must always be balanced. She owes us a great debt and I'll see it collected.”

“What are we really owed? Molly, we _are_ planning to commit treason in our Court.” I saw her eyes flash, anger so evident she practically had smoke coming out of her nostrils. “Exactly. That's how a Queen should react. Can we fault her?”

“Are you getting cold feet on me, Boss?” She sat down on the edge of the bed and started taking off her shoes - she'd been wearing her leather armor, complete with boots. I guess she'd anticipated more of a fight getting me out.

“No. If I can figure out a way to burn her alive I’m going to do it. I’m just not sure if we’re the good guys this time.” I rubbed at my face. “And I don’t want to die.”

She blinked at me. “Nobody really _wants_ to die, Harry.”

“Duh. I just meant, before when I would do some crazy suicide mission, like when Carlos and I blew up the Raith Deeps, or when we tried to save Morgan, I didn’t want to die but if it happened…well, I already had the headstone. As long as it was accurate, I was willing to accept whatever happened. I can't accept it now. I can't leave Maggie alone again.” I didn't want to leave Molly and our son alone either, but if I didn't make it, I doubted either of them would. Molly was stronger, way stronger than I could ever hope to be, but if Mab decided we needed to die, she'd wipe the whole island.

“Worry is interest paid on trouble before it comes due, Harry.” She was down to just her undergarments and I knew I was in a bad spot because as glorious a sight as that was, especially after a month apart, I didn't have the energy to make a single move. Seeing that I was still dressed, she stood and I let her remove my filthy rags while we spoke. “You've survived more deadly situations. I mean, come on, you survived _actually_ dying.”

“Only because Bonnie, Alfred, and the monster we’re about to try to assassinate kept me alive. I'm not going to get that lucky a second time.”

“My point is you always come through. Don’t get all mushy on me now just cause you’re a dad. I’m in what feels like my 27,000th week of pregnancy. If I’m not allowed to get emotional and hysterical neither are you”

“No one’s stopping you. Be as hysterical as you want.”

“Nuh-uh.” When I stood naked before her, she smiled and kissed me deeply. “We’re Dresdens. Dresdens never say die.”

“That's the Goonies.”

“There's no crying in epic battles with fairy Queens.”

“That’s A League of their Own.”

“Never give up, never surrender?”

I was sure she was referencing something from the way she smirked but I just rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that _does_ sound like it should be printed on our family crest.” I begrudgingly admitted. She took me by the hand and led me into the adjoining bathroom, starting the shower. “Even with two busted up hands, I think I can manage to wash myself, Molls,” I said with a knowing smile when she followed me in.

“I don't know. You look,” she wrinkled her nose “and smell pretty filthy. I thought you could use an extra set of hands. Make sure you get clean everywhere, even the hard to reach spots.”

I met her excited grin with a sad smile of my own. “Molly, you are more gorgeous now than ever and any man would be lucky to share a shower with you, especially someone like me, but I'm just not…” _able to get out of my own head long enough to give you the attention and affection you deserve._

“Relax. I know.” She kissed me again, soft and chaste, both hands against my chest. “I'm teasing you. We've been through hell. You've got a lot on your mind. We can just shower together if that's what you want. Nothing else.”

I made a noise of derision. “Yeah, okay. In the year I've been with you we've never managed to shower together without ‘anything else' happening, but this’ll be the one time.”

“It could happen.” I gave her a flat look and her smile faded, one of her hands stroking gently over my heart. Her eyes were downcast. “I'm serious. After the last few weeks, I don't even want to try to persuade you to do something you don't want to do. I don't ever want to feel like that again. I just…I don't think I can handle letting you out of my sight. Not even for a minute. Not until this is all over.”

I wrapped one arm around her back, drawing her closer to me. The water pouring over us both might have hidden her tears, but I could feel her shaking with them. “There we go,” I said softly, bringing my other arm up until she was wrapped in my embrace. She'd been too focused, too positive, since I'd first crashed into her that morning in Arctis Tor. I recognized the ways that Molly coped with fear and heartache when I saw them and keeping busy combined with relentless cheerfulness? That said 'Molly is not okay’ surer than any tears. She'd had to be strong, to focus on getting me out, to show the group that she wasn't afraid, that we could do this. This time Molly was the one with the power, the knowledge, and the crazy, desperate, reckless plan. I was just along for the ride.

Which meant that while I got to be obviously exhausted, stressed and despondent about the whole thing, she had to keep it together. I’d been there enough times. She hadn’t needed to keep pretending for my sake, but she’d tried anyway. Oddly, it was a relief to see her break down, to feel her clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping her up while she was wracked with sobs. I had started to worry that maybe I was just getting old, losing my touch, growing weak. She’d been through the same sort of mental torture I had and while I spent the entire day kissing her every chance I got, making sure I was in constant contact with her, stuck somewhere between wanting to dance with joy that we’d made it out and have a full-blown meltdown in gibbering terror at the thought of what we were about to do, she had just been calm, collected and amiable, as if it were any other day.

It also helped me to have someone else to worry about. “We're okay,” I assured us both. “Nothing she said was true. She didn't break us. We're still here.”

“I know.” She nuzzled her head against my cheek. “But it could have been, Harry. That’s what made it so believable and even now, even here, I just keep thinking, what if we have it wrong? What if she _was_ telling the truth?”

“She tried to convince me you were never pregnant.” I brought one hand to rest on the side of her stomach. “She told us what we needed to hear to lose faith in each other, that’s it.”

“But it _does_ seem too good to be true. How would we know? What if I _am_ infected and I just don’t know it? What if I’ve messed with your mind and I’m just so good no one can see it? What if I'm just the new Maeve after all?”

“First of all, you are not nor will you ever be Maeve. You’re a kinder, smarter, better woman than she could ever have hoped to be.”

“But she wasn’t always Maeve either, not the Maeve that you knew.” Molly protested.

“Second,” I continued, running my hands through her sodden hair. “You know this is real, just like I do, just like some part of me knew the whole time I was in Arctis Tor. And third, who cares at this point why we got together. Even if it was true that you messed with me to get me here, which I can't stress enough is not the case, but even if it was, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. We _are_ in love. Anything less wouldn't cause the White Court to burn.”

She sniffled, trying to compose herself. “Yeah, Thomas told me the same thing.” A small laugh escaped her. “Maggie’s got a theory that Winter magic is weak against love.”

I smiled. “She's a kid. She still thinks everything works like a storybook or a Disney movie.”

Molly smiled in return and met my eyes. “I think she might be right.” I arched an eyebrow. “Lea’s deal with Susan, the night the war started? You said she got her memories back when you told her you loved her for the first time. When you guys came to rescue me from the fetches, mom busted down the door to the tower with that giant hammer **.** Iron is powerful in Faerie but not strong enough to break down the walls of Arctis Tor itself. Will undid Maeve and Jenny Greenteeth's work with a single kiss. The night I became the Lady, Karrin was starting to break through Maeve’s bonds even before the Queen interfered, barely subdued, because she couldn't stand the thought of losing you **.**

“And you and I. Even with all of my piercings in I couldn’t defy a direct order to tell you about your mom when I was scared and upset. But we were able to bypass Winter completely to make the Blip with only a handful of iron. And share our wedding vows without any iron at all. Obviously, it’s not an 'oh God it burns' weakness like it is for the White Court but…” She shrugged. “Maggie pointed out that if Winter is all about cold logic and survival, it makes sense for it to falter in the face of love. Apparently, she just thought it was something everyone knew.”

“Huh. Well, it…it makes a certain kind of sense.” I admitted. “Have you tested it?”

She shook her head, moving away slightly to grab a bottle of shampoo and returning to work it into my hair. “I don’t know how to go about it. Maybe after tomorrow, I’ll try with Lea and Margaret. I think we’ll need someone else, I need examples that aren’t us. But it feels right.”

“Seems like something you’d know for sure, impending-Queen Molly,” I said it lightly but I still felt her stiffen for just a fraction of a second before continuing as she massaged my scalp and ran her fingers through the matted mess that was my hair.

“Lady Dresden was just as surprised as regular Molly. We’d never considered the possibility.”

“Lady Dresden, eh?”

Molly's smile turned sly. “Once we figured out what she was doing, I started playing her game. She called me 'Ms. Carpenter’ trying to hurt me, and I pointed out that neither 'Ms.’ nor 'Carpenter' were appropriate. I think she expected me to start crying again when she said Mrs. Dresden, but I just smiled and told her Lady Dresden sounded better.” Her hands had moved to her own hair and I was almost distracted by the way the soapy water ran down her neck to slide over her breasts, swollen and magnificent.

“I’m betting she didn’t like that one bit.” I grinned, lathering myself with enough soap to take off a layer or two of skin along with the grime.

“It was almost worth all of the heartache just to hear her say 'Dresden', in that cold disapproving tone she always uses and to know this time she was talking to me. In case I haven’t been clear on the matter, I really love having your last name.”

"Good, because it’s _our_ last name now, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart!” She smacked my chest, probably harder than she’d intended. “What’s up with that? You don’t use pet names like that. A whole year and I’ve only heard you use them sarcastically, but you come to me in my dream space and suddenly I’m 'sweetheart'?” I blinked at her, partly confused and partly because the shampoo was dripping into my eyes. “You said 'I know, sweetheart’. You'd never called me that before and I thought, I dunno, I thought maybe it _had_ been just a dream because you don't call me sweetheart. I’ve been obsessing over that for days now. Jerk.”

“So sorry to lapse into sweet-talk when my wife is having a breakdown in the middle of my dream. I'll only call you insults from now on, wench.”

“I guess I'll have to start calling you cutesy nicknames to compensate, sugar bear.” She turned around, reaching for another bottle and that simple movement, the way her back bowed, hair falling to the side, skin slick and flushed from the heat of the water, was mesmerizing. I lathered my hands with soap again and reached for her, rubbing small circles against her back and shoulders. She wasn’t in desperate need of a shower like I was, but from the way she melted at my touch, I assumed she was just as desperate as me for human contact. It hurt to force my hands to do anything more than just casually brush against her, but I did it anyway, kneading into the tight knots of tension in her shoulders, running my fingers down her spine. She made a few soft noises at first, mixed in with the patter of water against our bodies and the surrounding walls, but when I dug in to the small of her back where I knew she always ached these days, she let out a strangled gasp. It echoed in the tiled room, reflecting back to me, and for just a second it was all I could hear.

I smiled to myself and kept going, eliciting more moans, wondering idly how soundproofed the room was. I was betting it was nowhere near our bathroom at home. “You don’t – Ungh – you don’t have to do that.”

“I do.” I corrected, falling into the familiar patterns of an argument we’d had at least a dozen times. “I told you, if you have to be uncomfortable and miserable for our son, I can at least do my part to help.”

“I'm not – aahh – miserable. And you already did your part, seven months ago.”

“Listen here woman,” I said. “I'm heading off to almost certain death tomorrow, on my birthday I might add. I'll do whatever I damn well please today.”


	4. Chapter 4

Molly looked back over her shoulder at me, water falling all around us. “We _will_ come home tomorrow, Harry. I mean it.”

“You can't guarantee that. Hell, you can't even reasonably assume that. Our odds are somewhere around a billion to one.”

“Not quite so dire.” Her eyes took on the same distant look they had earlier for a moment before focusing back on mine. “As high as three to one in her favor. Two to one if everything goes according to plan, but you know what they say about how to make God laugh, so I'm sticking with three to one.” I arched an eyebrow and she frowned. “It's…lately, it’s like I can see things, how they’re going to happen, or how they could happen at least.”

“You’ve never had precognition before, have you?”

“Don’t you think a lot of things would have gone differently in my life if I had?” She asked wryly. “No, I think it’s a Winter thing. And I don’t know if I’d call it precognition. I don’t have control over when it happens exactly but they’re not visions either, it’s like, if I think really hard about something, about a choice I have to make, I see all the possible outcomes at once. They’re all layered on top of each other, and it’s hard to sort them out but,” She screwed up her face, either considering her words or unable to say what she wanted due to Winter’s restrictions, maybe both. “I think I might be seeing all of the possible parallel worlds the choice will make. It’s strange and disorienting and I’ve seen a lot of things that I wish I hadn’t seen, but I can’t deny that it’s useful. So. Three to one.”

I wasn’t sure if that confirmation made me feel better or worse. Three to one was better than I expected but still not good odds. Not to mention my concern about what a power like that would do to my wife. It wasn’t uncommon for real psychics, people with prophetic visions or foresight of more than a few seconds, to go completely insane from it. “Three to one,” I repeated. “Even for three to one you sound too confident.”

Molly turned until she was facing me again, her hands on my shoulders. I kept my arms around her waist, fingers resuming their work against her spine. “I _am_ confident. Because I have you back, and you’ve always beaten the odds.”

“That sounds good in theory but that’s not how odds work.”

“It is with you.” She said simply. “You don’t ever do what’s expected. If there were a hundred ways this could go wrong and only one that could go right, I would still trust that you'd find the one right way every single time. It's just how you are.” I scowled but said nothing. “Do you really not know who you are? Do you really think you just get lucky every time? You banished a Walker and killed a Warden turned warlock when you were sixteen. You stopped a loup-garou with just a necklace. You fought Denarians on top of a train to save the human race. You touched one of their coins and not only did you not give in, you actually turned the shadow of the fallen into a halfway decent person. You stopped a bunch of necromancers from ascending to godhood, with a reanimated T-rex. You exterminated an entire species to save Maggie. You came back from the freakin' dead. You stole from Hades, the _actual_ Hades. You've earned the reputation you have.”

I shook my head. “Of course it sounds impressive when you lay it out like that but you left out the trail of bodies that I've left in my wake, not just enemies. Or how most of that was done by the seat of my pants, or how terrified I was the entire time. I've done crazy things and survived improbable odds but only because I keep getting myself into insane situations where my only chance of survival is to do something equally insane. I think a part of me has always known that one day I'll find something that really is impossible to get myself out of.”

Molly kissed me then, hard and fierce, taking me by surprise, but I kissed her back. “You’re one of the strongest wizards on the planet. You’re a Warden for both the White Council and for your spooky nightmare prison island.” I must have hit a sore spot because she gasped again and I watched her face contort with it before she continued. “You are the only Winter Knight on record to keep control as long as you have and you show no signs of giving in because even 'indomitable’ doesn't seem strong enough to describe your stubborn will. You’re a starborn. And you’re an amazing friend and lover and husband and father. And – mmm, Harry!”

I’d heard that breathy exhalation of my name before, and while usually my hands were on her when she made it, they were usually doing more than massaging. I saw the faint blush that crept up her cheeks as _she_ realized that _I_ realized she was _really_ enjoying the massage. “And husband to the Winter Queen?” I suggested. I don’t think it was what she was going to say, but her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

“Your proper title will be Prince Consort. Or King Consort if you prefer, your majesty.” Her eyes glowed a little when she said it like they did when she got well and truly angry, but I saw no anger in them in that moment. I’d never noticed before how beautiful that glow was, making her already piercing blue eyes even more brilliant. In the past, it had always made her look alien, a reminder that she was at least partially fae. Now, it just looked natural somehow, like her eyes were always meant to glow. They were warm and welcoming, despite their cold blue light.

“The decision is yours, my Queen,” I replied, trailing my hands lightly along her back, and continuing down until I was cupping her ass. I recognized the husky notes of arousal in my own voice.

“Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, King Consort of Winter.” She purred and, okay, yeah that sounded pretty great. I liked it so much I kissed her again, open-mouthed and deep, as if I’d be able to taste my Name on her tongue.

“Molly Katherine Amanda Dresden of Winter, Queen of Air and Darkness,” I replied in a low voice, my lips moving to her neck. She made an appreciative noise, gripping me tighter and I grinned. “I don’t care what you call me in public, as long as you’re still moaning my name in private, your highness.”

“Thought you said you didn't want anything more than a shower?” She teased, her breath hitching when my hands slid up the length of her body, tracing every swell and curve of her, massaging her swollen breasts and stroking her nipples. The truth is, I _hadn't_ been up to it a moment ago, too lost in my doubts and worries, but I should have known – being around Molly always made everything feel easier and talking to her always made me feel better. Of course, listening to her moans and that breathy way she'd said my name, and her wet, naked body in front of me all hadn't hurt either. The point is, I was very apparently up to it now.

“I said 'I'm just not'. You filled in the blanks yourself.” I told her innocently. “In fact, if you'll recall, I expressed doubt at our ability to shower together _without_ it leading to something more.”

“Mmph. Clever wordplay? Take me now.” She was joking, and she wasn’t.

“As my Queen commands,” I growled and went to work.

Ramirez’s acquaintance’s house had not been rewired by Svartalfs, nor had they crafted his water heater, both comforts we had at home that I had started taking for granted. The result was that a half-hour later, Molly and I found ourselves in a pitch-black bathroom being pelted with freezing water. I hadn't even noticed that the lights blew until we’d already finished, and from the way Molly started laughing I don't think she had either. Of course, once she started laughing, I did too, and then we were kissing in between our laughter and that, combined with the comfortably heavy weight of post-sex satiation that filled my body, washed away the pain and fear, leaving only determination in its place.

“You don't have any idea how badly I needed that.” She finally said, snuggling her head into the crook of my neck.

“Uh yeah, I think I do.” I laughed again. “I know how badly I needed it, at the very least, all of this. The sex but also this, you pressed against me, our conversations and jokes, your smile, the way you smell, all of it. I needed you. Need you.”

“I need you too.” She murmured. “But I needed…I needed you to confirm it, that you still want me, even when I look like this,” She gestured down at her belly and I would have assured her, truthfully, that the fact that she was carrying my child hit something primal in me and only made me want her more, but she continued. “And that you really do want me of your own free will.”

“Of course I do.” I ran one hand along the back of her head. “Molls, it's me. Do you think anyone, even you, could make me do something against my, what did you call it, indomitable will?”

“I said indomitable wasn’t a strong enough word. And I know, it's just there's knowing and then there's _knowing_ , you know?” She kissed my cheek. “Plus, it's been 30 days straight since the last time we slept together, and that's like, 27 more days than I've gone without an orgasm since we first hooked up. I wouldn’t have stopped you if you'd taken me right there on the floor in Arctis Tor while Carlos and Elaine watched. The only thing that’s kept me from ripping your clothes off and jumping your bones all morning is this little voice in the back of my head that keeps whispering that I'm taking advantage of you.”

My smile was a little crooked when I said, “Heh. Yeah, I've heard that voice a few times myself. But it's just as much of a liar to you as it was to me. And we're going to kick ass tomorrow, then we’re going to go back home, to our own house and our own bed, and I will spend the next thirty days proving that to you while we make up for lost time.”

“Sounds like a great plan. But first, maybe we should actually get you cleaned up and do something about your crazy hobo beard?”

“Maggie used magic and none of you thought to mention that to me before now?!” I demanded. I was halfway to standing in my outrage but Molly put a firm hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. I was dressed in my own clothes again and sat on a stool in the kitchen while Molly trimmed my hair.

“Unless you want me to take off an ear, stay still.” She chided. “And no, I guess we were too busy arranging for your escape, plotting to overthrow the fairy government and causing property damage to the bathroom to think about it.”

“Besides,” My mother commented, leaning against the wall beside us. She looked casual but her eyes tracked back and forth across the large windows that were flooding the kitchen with the early evening light, scanning for danger. No one mentioned it, but from the moment we came down the stairs, we weren’t left alone, always at least one person keeping us company wherever we went. I think Molly and I weren’t the only ones who were afraid of losing each other again. “She was sitting on your lap all morning. You can’t tell the touch of a practitioner when you feel it?”

“She’s wearing a hoodie and jeans,” I argued, but she was right. I’d felt the energy of her anger pooling around us. With any other person I’d have known what that meant, I was just too focused on being happy to see her, making sure she was okay, that she knew I loved her, to make the connection. And had there been a jolt when I touched her face? Looking back, I think there had.

“She’s got a subtle touch anyway,” Molly said, in my defense. “You’d have to be looking for it to notice.”

“Not Council-level talent, then?” I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or upset about that, and it showed in my voice. If she wasn’t strong enough to make it into the Council, she was less likely to get caught up in their bullshit. But I had to admit now that I was confronted with it that I’d believed she’d take after my side of the family, and say what you want about the McCoy line, we weren’t lacking in power. I should have just been excited that she had any power at all since Susan had been just a vanilla mortal before I’d let the Red Court get their hands on her. Magic was usually inherited along the mother's lines.

“Well…maybe,” Molly answered, and something passed between her and Margaret that I didn't understand.

“She showed up at Thomas’s apartment the night you were both kidnapped. She came to ask for help, but when he answered the door she was slumped against that beast of a dog, clutching her head like it was about to explode.” Mom explained. “He brought her in, went to the bathroom to grab aspirin and by the time he came back out she was passed out on his couch. She slept for eighteen hours straight.”

“Sounds like the first use of magic, yeah. What did she do?” They shared another look and I had a second to panic that she'd done something to violate one of the Laws before Molly spoke.

“According to her, she teleported.”

“Teleportation isn’t a thing.” I scoffed. “Definitely not something you can do without knowing exactly what you're doing. You have to account for the rotation of the planet and–”

“I remember, Boss.” Molly rolled her eyes. “But she says she was in the woods near Ebenezer’s place, thinking about how she needed to get back to Chicago to find Thomas so he could find you, and then she was on his doorstep,” I grunted, thinking hard. “I thought maybe she'd gone through the Ways but she said everything was blurry for a minute or two and then she was there.”

“She also seems to have her stepmother's knack for veils.” My mother added. “Or at least she has a talent for suddenly disappearing when adults are looking for her, even when her pendant isn't nearby. She hasn't admitted to it, but she might not even be aware that she's doing it.”

“I don't think she is.” Molly agreed. “I haven't had a whole lot of time with her, but I had her try a few things. She can’t do anything on command yet. Her magic seems to be tied to her emotions.”

“Magic is always tied to your emotions. That’s where black magic comes from.” I avoided looking at Margaret, but I couldn’t shake the remembered feeling of her residual power crawling across my skin at the crime scene in the church last year.

“Sure, an evocation is going to be stronger if you’re angry or excited or something.” My wife continued as she evened out the cut of my hair. The beard had already been trimmed (but not shaved – apparently she liked the beard) and making my shaggy mane look respectable had been her next project. “But if you needed to conjure fire right now, you wouldn’t have to get angry to do it. Maggie’s only used her power when she was emotional, scared that something was going to happen to you, angry that your friends kept trying to keep her out of the loop or wouldn’t do what she thought they should. There’s barely a spark of power when everything is normal and you touch her, but when she hits emotional extremes the air gets thick with it.”

“I’ve got an almost teenage daughter, with the ability to go wherever she wants and to be invisible while she does it, as long as she’s feeling a strong emotion. Is that what you’re telling me?” I looked back and forth between the two women. Mom shrugged but Molly nodded. “Hells bells. That’s more terrifying than taking down a fairy queen. You were bad enough. How much worse could it have been if you could teleport?”

My wife smiled, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Alright, you’re as good as you’re gonna get. And I don’t think we need to worry. Maggie is a much more reasonable kid than I ever was. She didn’t use her powers to sneak out and get into trouble, she used it to go home and talk to Bonnie, and to get back to Thomas’s, no matter whose house they left her at, and to summon me. Which, is a weird experience by the way. I know why things get so pissed when you summon them now. It’s… uncomfortable.”

“Still, I’ll need to talk with her, start her training in earnest once we get home.” I stroked my chin thoughtfully, which felt so right with the beard. “Better yet, start teaching her to be more cautious before I teach her anything else. Teleporting? Summoning you? She got really lucky.”

“Mmm. Yes and no.” Molly waved one hand absently and every stand of discarded hair was blown off of me to rest in a neat little pile by the door. “I would have had a hard time getting out of her circle if she'd kept me there. I mean, she only had it up for about two seconds before she broke it to hug me, but she had done her research. It was a desperate move but I think she thought it through.”

“Knowing it's a bad idea and doing it anyway is worse than not knowing.” I groaned.

“Speaking of,” Mom said, pulling something over her head. “Before we execute this bad idea of ours tomorrow, you should have this back.” She hung the pentacle around my neck and I hadn’t realized how much I missed its familiar weight until then.

“Are you sure?” I asked, touching it lightly. “You can keep it. It's yours, after all.”

“Your boss said the same thing when she presented me with it.” Her eyes were hard. “But as I told her, you were always meant to have it.”

“I don't think she's our boss anymore. I've committed several fireable offenses, including destruction of company property and assaulting my coworkers.”

“The way I see it, you've put in a lot of extra hours lately, really given your blood, sweat, and tears to a boss who doesn't appreciate you. I think it's high time for a promotion.” Molly smirked and I grinned back.

“I like the way you think, Mrs. Dresden.” Sliding off the stool, I leaned down to kiss her. “I just hope my new boss appreciates me.”

“Oh, I'm sure she'll appreciate you plenty.” She leered pointedly and we both laughed.

The atmosphere was still tense over dinner (how could it not be, given what we were about to do?) but Molly and I were in good spirits and everyone seemed to take their cues from us and slowly relax a bit. Beer helped, of course. A few more people had filtered in while I was, ahem, occupied and I had to admit we made an impressive group as I looked around the table. Mom and Ebenezer sat at the far end, still arguing because apparently, that was just how they communicated with each other. Andi and Waldo were in a very animated conversation with Will about a computer game they played. Karrin was talking to Charity (apparently her being here had been a point of contention, but she insisted that this fight was about her 'son and daughter’ and she wasn’t sitting it out – Michael was with the kids in a safe location) with one hand under the table. I was willing to bet she’d rested it on Sanya's knee. The two sat side by side, and though they gave no outward indication that they were together, it was impossible not to notice. Carlos and Elaine, on the other hand, had no qualms about showing affection now that Molly and I both knew. He put his arm around her possessively and she leaned against him while we talked, catching up on what had been happening on the West Coast while we were busy fighting Fomor and forming seditious plots. Turns out it was largely the same, minus the seditious plots.

After dinner there was cake. It was store-bought, but someone had taken the time to write Happy Birthday, Harry! in icing and stuck candles around the letters. Thomas brought the cake out and hit the lights and Mom lit the candles with a snap of her fingers. No one in our ragtag group would be winning any Grammys but the happy chorus that serenaded me warmed the cockles of my heart. It was the easiest birthday wish I'd ever made: _no matter what happens, I hope we all come home safely tomorrow._ I made sure to blow out every last candle.

We carried on for a while after, every laugh just a bit louder than normal, every drink a bit deeper. We all knew the risks, we all knew that this time tomorrow any of us, maybe all of us, might not be here. Honestly, my adrenaline rush had burned out a long time ago, and weeks of nightmares and unwanted dreams had left me exhausted. Combined with the dull ache of my hands, which I’m sure would have been unbearable pain without Winter, I was ready to curl up in a bed and sleep for a decade or two until I'd managed to recover. Molly, radiant though she was, looked like she wasn't much better off. I stayed up until midnight (though Maggie, curled up on my lap with her head on my chest, fell asleep somewhere around 10:00) since I was told I couldn't go to bed before it was officially my birthday, but once it was officially Halloween, I called it a night.

The bed wasn’t as comfortable as our one back home, but when I laid my head on the pillow Molly was laying right beside me, so I had no complaints. She grumbled in frustration, trying to put her head on my chest as usual and finding that she couldn’t comfortably arrange herself now that her body had finally started to look as pregnant as she was. Before the frustrated grumbles could turn into frustrated tears (and it looked like those weren’t far off) I gave her a soft kiss. “Roll over, I can still hold you just as well on your side.”

“I like listening to your heartbeat.” She said, pouting but rolling over anyway.

“As if your hearing isn't sharp enough to listen to it from across the room.” I curled myself around her, one arm under her pillow and the other thrown over her side. There was too much fabric between us – both of us wearing pants, and her in a tank top – but she’d pointed out that there was no guarantee that Mab would wait for us to call her. She’d have to realize we were gone soon if she hadn’t already (Lea had assured us that she hadn’t been called to man the Gates yet but that wasn’t a foolproof guarantee and it had been a while since we’d talked to her) and we had no way of knowing what she would do. Molly seemed wholly unconvinced that our defenses would hold if Mab wanted to find us and I trusted her. So, at her suggestion, we at least wouldn’t be fighting stark naked if she struck in the middle of the night again.

“It's not the same.” She scooted back against me and I smiled. “But I guess this is pretty nice too.”

I breathed in deep, inhaling that scent that was so uniquely hers until it was all I could smell and held her close. “Tell me I'm not going to wake up in Arctis Tor the second I fall asleep.” I murmured.

“Mm. Not the second, I'm sure.” She answered with a yawn. “It'll take her goons awhile to wrangle us back, assuming she doesn’t just kill us in our sleep.”

Not the most comforting thought, but she had a point. Still, “That wasn’t what I meant. I mean, tell me this is real. Tell me we escaped, that I’m really holding you.”

She snuggled even closer to me. “You’re really here, really holding me. This isn’t a dream or a nightmare. And I will kill every last one of her lackeys before I let her take you from me again.”

“Aren’t we still technically her lackeys?”

Molly was quiet for a minute. “No. I'm no one's lackey. I belong to you and to Winter, but not to her, not anymore. And neither do you.”

“I made a deal with her. I don't like it but I'm bound to her until one of us is dead.”

“You made a deal with the Winter Queen, and Winter granted you power but you didn't make a deal with her.” She sat up on her knees, far more fluid and graceful than she had any right to be, and I watched bemused as she dug my left hand out from under her pillow and slid my wedding band back on my finger. It was like I'd stepped out of the shower in the middle of winter, naked, wet and freezing and she'd just handed me the warmest, softest, bathrobe straight from the dryer. It felt like home. It felt like Molly. She rolled over to lay facing me and I could see exhaustion written across her face as surely as it was in mine, but she smiled through it. “You've made promises to me that trump any you've made to her. She's not the only Queen and by this time tomorrow she won't be one at all.”

“I think I like confident Molly.” I decided out loud. “You sound so convinced I'm starting to believe you.”

“I learned from the best.” She smirked. “I'm operating under the assumption that if I can say it out loud it must be true, which helps me believe it.”

“Don’t you have to believe it’s true already to be able to say it?”

“Yes. But, if I believe that I can say it then I have to believe it’s true, otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to say it.”

“So, you believe we’re going to succeed because you can say it, but you can say it because you believe we’re going to succeed, which you believe because you can say that we’re going to succeed out loud?” I puzzled my way through it. She grinned and nodded. “That’s giving me a headache just thinking about it.”

“I think stuff like that pretty much every day. Being sidhe is complicated.” Molly moved forward until our noses touched and wiggled her face back and forth for Eskimo kisses (Inuit kisses? What’s the PC term for that? Whatever. If you’re still reading, you obviously aren’t someone who gets hung up on civil niceties.)

I chuckled, returning her non-politically-correctly-named kisses with my own. But my heart was heavy and I met her eyes. “What happens tomorrow, Molls?”

Her smile dimmed a little. “We kick her ass and make her pay for what she’s done to us, and to all of Winter while we’re at it. Tomorrow, well, technically later today but that’s not the point, we put down a tyrant.”

I nodded. “Right. But then what? What happens after?” We hadn’t discussed it much prior, partially because it seemed too much like putting the cart before the horse when just getting Mab down seemed impossible, but if I was being honest (something I do at least _try_ to do with myself) I also hadn’t brought it up because I was almost as afraid of what winning might mean as I was of losing. “What do we do once you’re Queen?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“We’ve been saying that for months but that bridge is getting really close and it’s looking pretty rickety from here, babe.”

Her smile faded completely. “We don’t have an alternative, Harry. Maybe before the Blip, we could have worked things out with her, or someone else could have carried the mantle, maybe Lea or your mom. But now…there’s no escaping the fact that I am not a maiden anymore. I can’t continue as the Lady and I can't let the mantle get destroyed. Not without destroying the planet as well. I have to be the Queen.”

I sighed. “I know but,” I paused, weighing my words before I said them. There was no good way to ask the questions I needed answered. “The night you became the Winter Lady, once I realized that she’d planned for you to be there, I threatened her. And she told me it would be too much for you, bearing her mantle as well as your own.”

To my surprise, Molly's smile returned. “You threatened her? By yourself?”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. I watched the power hit you and then you crumpled to the ground. By the time everything was over, I had no idea how you were, if you were going to be okay, if…if you were going to be you when you woke up. I knew she’d manipulated you, manipulated us both to get us right where she wanted us. And I guess it was also easier to blame her for the whole thing rather than admit that every step of the path that led you into that circle at that exact time and place was really my fault. So yeah, I might have put a gun to her head. And threatened to have Alfred lock her up **.** ”

“Would you really have done it back then?” Her eyes searched mine. “If she hadn’t warned you against it, would you have tried to kill her?”

I thought about it. “Probably not. I’ve killed a lot of things, but I don’t like doing it, and I try to avoid it unless I have no other option. Then again, if she’d said the wrong thing, if she’d led me to believe you wouldn’t be okay…I don’t know. Yeah, I might have tried.”

Molly pressed her forehead against mine with a soft laugh. “I wish I’d known that. That even back then you were willing to fight for me, to keep me safe. It might have made all this waiting easier.”

“I probably should have realized how I felt after that.” Then, thinking about it some more added, “No, I _did_ realize it. I should have admitted it, to myself and you. But that's not the point. The point is, are you sure you'll be able to handle both mantles at once?”

“Are you really worried about what a woman who recently convinced you that I wasn’t pregnant and that she had you kidnapped for your own good, told you years ago in response to a threat on her life?”

“Yes. Especially since you just went out of your way to avoid my question.”

“Are you sure you're my husband?” she asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but her smile still played at her lips. “You’re twisting words, you notice what I'm not saying as much as what I am saying, it's just not right. My Harry is abysmal at dealing with the fae.”

“I've had some pointed lessons in lying with the truth recently.” I traced her cheeks, the line of her jaw, fingers brushing over her soft lips. It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time I'd shared a bed with her, and it also felt like I'd done it just yesterday, like maybe everything that had happened in Arctis Tor had been a horrible nightmare and nothing more. “How does Lea know what Candy Land is?”

She blinked at me. “What?”

“The Leanansidhe. She told me that I shouldn't give up and play Candy Land just because I'm terrible at chess.”

This was met with just as much confusion. “You were playing board games with Lea while you were a prisoner?” I laughed and explained that she'd been speaking metaphorically, how it had helped me figure out what Mab had done. **“** Don't resign yourself to Candy Land just because you’re bad at chess **.** I like that. That should be our new family motto.”

“I thought you said that was never give up, never surrender?” I let her giggle at that for a moment, twining the fingers of my left hand up through hers until our wedding bands rested against each other. “I just want to know what to expect, Molls. I understand that we’re out of options, but…I don't want this to be the last night we spend together like this.”

“If I knew what to expect, I'd tell you. I want to tell you we’ll all go home together tomorrow night and we’ll live happily ever after, and maybe we will but if I'm being honest, I doubt it. I don't know what holding both mantles will do to me. I know it's possible, but I have no idea what it does to the vessel. And last time, the power changed me, not just physically but the way I think and feel. It's gotten worse with time but the changes started immediately. So, I don't know. All I can tell you is, I'll still be bound to honor my promises, which means whatever else I am, I’ll still be your wife. I can’t promise I’ll always be able to come home, but I can promise I’ll always want to be home with you and Maggie.” The baby must have kicked because she looked down and added, “Yes, and you too.”

I wanted to be strong for her, to tell her we’d find a way to make that happen, that I wouldn’t let her become Mab any more than I’d let her become Maeve. But when I opened my mouth, the words that came out were raw and desperate. “I don't want to lose you again.”

“You’ve never lost me, and you never could. You’re stuck with me, buster.” She kissed me, hard yet yielding, almost a challenge for me to kiss her back. Of course, I couldn’t let a challenge like that stand, so I did. Our mouths were hot and hungry against each other and one of her hands slid up my back until she could bury her fingers in my hair, forcing me tighter against her. In turn, my hand roamed her body, gliding along her side, slipping under the waistband of her pajamas and stroking circles against her pelvic bone until she shivered. She started working frantically at the drawstring on my pants, and I half expected her to just tear them when she froze. It was a little unnerving, that alien stillness like a statue made of flesh. I started to ask what was wrong when I heard what she must have - claws against wood. Something was trying to get into the bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

I started to rise but Molly shook her head sharply, and without making the slightest sound, she climbed over me and stalked toward the door. I sat up on the bed, my feet on the floor, and prepared to shield her if I needed to. I felt power rolling off her, like an electrical charge buzzing through the room. If I concentrated I was pretty sure I’d be able to hear the hum of it. She crouched in a defensive stance, listening intently, and then all the tension left her in an instant and she opened the door. Mouse was sitting up on his haunches, and had the back of Maggie’s shirt in his massive jaws, holding her in place. He whined when he saw us, looking from me to the little girl he had with him who was shaking with tears. Molly beat me to the punch, scooping Maggie up to hold her against her. Before either of us could ask, Maggie started trying to choke out words in between her ragged breaths. “I didn’t-didn't want-didn't want to. M-mouse made me.”

“Mouse made you what, Squirt?” Molly asked, stroking her hair as she sat down on the bed next to me. The shaggy behemoth in question lumbered in behind them, nudged the door shut with his nose, and curled up against it. He almost looked like he was going to sleep, but his watchful eyes remained on my daughter.

“I didn’t. Ww-want to-to-to b-bother you.”

“You’re never a bother, pumpkin,” I said softly, running one hand up and down her arm. “What’s wrong?” She shook her head and cringed as if she was trying to fold up into herself.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Molly asked. Maggie hesitated then nodded. “A regular one, or a really bad one?” _Something normal or Red Court night terrors_ , she meant.

“A worse one.” She replied, barely a whisper. “B-but it’s okay. I’m f-f-fine.” Mouse huffed loudly and she looked over her shoulder to glare at him. “I am.” Her voice was a little firmer though still thick with tears. “I'm not a baby.”

“No one thinks you are, sweet pea.” She glanced at me when I spoke, but almost immediately looked away. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head emphatically. Molly and I shared a worried look. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to press her and make it worse, but I didn’t know how to help without knowing why she was so upset.

“The entire time we were away, I had bad dreams,” Molly said it conversationally, like it was unrelated, just something she was commenting on. “Terrible, awful things. Worse than anything I could have imagined while I was awake.” Maggie looked up at her but didn't say anything so Molly continued. “One of the worst ones started out like a good dream, where everything was fine, better than fine, and then everything changed and your dad told me he was taking you and the two of you were going to go away forever and never come back. And it felt so real that even now that I have you both with me I'm a little worried that's going to happen again.”

Maggie clung tighter to her. “It won’t. Even if he wanted to I wouldn't let him.”

“I don't want to.” I clarified, just in case either of them was insane enough to think there might even be a chance of that being true. “I've had nightmares of losing you both too. But we're all here, and those dreams are just that. They're not real.”

“….I had a dream about tomorrow.” Maggie finally admitted. “I know it wasn't real but. But it could be. And I couldn't go back to sleep.” _If we survive tomorrow, that's it. I'm retiring. I'm keeping my nose out of it all, head down, eyes shut. I'm not getting involved. I can't keep doing this to her._ “That still doesn’t mean you had to drag me up here.” She grumbled in Mouse’s direction.

“Since he _did_ drag you up here, do you want to spend the night here with us?” I asked, glancing sidelong at Molly to make sure that was okay with her. Her look said 'do you even need to ask?’

“I'm not a baby.” My daughter insisted again. “I'm too old to crawl into bed with you guys just because I have a nightmare. Dogs should mind their own business.”

“Of course you're not a baby. You're a big sister. From one big sister to another, that makes you almost a grown-up. But even grown-ups are allowed to be scared. The first time your dad and I spent the night in the same bed, it was because I had bad dreams and I was afraid to sleep alone. And that was just last year.” Molly shifted Maggie on her lap. “If you'd rather go back downstairs, that's fine. But I think your dad and I would both sleep better with you here.”

So, on the eve of battle, I wasn’t up all night planning, I didn't have wild, desperate, passionate 'last night alive' sex with Molly, I wasn’t running around, exhausted, solving last-minute problems and or any of my usual nonsense. Instead, I laid down in a comfortable-enough bed, with my wife snuggled up close against the front of me and our daughter in turn snuggled up close against her. We fit like Russian nesting dolls, which was good because it meant that when I flung my arm over Molly's side, I reached Maggie as well. I marveled a bit at how much life can change in such a short span of time, how an unexpected phone call four years ago had set in motion a chain of events that took me to the lowest low points of my life but also brought me here, to a point where what I wanted most was exactly what I had for once.

_If I die tomorrow,_ I thought, _it will be worth it to have had this for even the short time I’ve had it._

I listened to the soft breathing of the two most important people in the whole world. It took Molly longer to drift off than Maggie, which wasn’t surprising, but she eventually fell asleep. And as I felt sleep start to claim me as well, I amended my thought. _If I die tomorrow it would be worth it. But I’m not ready to give this up. I will do everything I can to bring us both back home safe. And if that’s not enough, I’ll just have to start doing things I can’t do. Because while this life may be worth dying for, it’s also worth living for. I’m not letting Mab or anyone else take it away from us._

I woke up feeling like I’d slept for a century and a half, well-rested, energized and ready to face the day. It was unusual, but I’d take it. Maggie was snuggled up against me, but awake and reading. I yawned, locked her in a bear hug and kissed the back of her head. “G’morning sunshine,” I mumbled, my voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning, daddy.” She tilted her head back until she was looking up at me from an awkward angle. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, munchkin.” I stretched, taking a look around the room with bleary eyes. “Where’s Molly?”

“Mom's downstairs. She said the Blip wasn’t letting her sleep but she didn't want to wake you up. I stayed up here though, cause I didn't want you to wake up and worry about us.”

I smiled, gave her another kiss because damned if she wasn’t just the best freakin’ kid in the entire world, and climbed out of bed. “I worry about you two every minute of every day. Especially now that I hear _someone’s_ been using magic. You didn’t mention that yesterday.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I can’t really do anything. It was just the once. I didn’t want you to get all excited just to find out I’m only…”

I finished pulling my t-shirt (the same one Molly had given me yesterday after our shower – it was only going to get dirtier with what I had planned for the day) over my head and arched an eyebrow in my daughter’s direction. “Only what, munchkin?”

She shrugged. “Y’know. Normal. Boring.”

“Margaret Angelica Dresden.” Being a wizard parent meant that I didn’t just get to use the kid’s full name to express displeasure, I got to use her full Name. “I don’t believe that you’ve _ever_ been boring in your entire life. Whether you’re perfectly mundane or you’ve got enough power to rival the Merlin, you’ll never be boring. And in this family, you had no hopes of being normal either.” I winked at her and thankfully she laughed. “You should know by now, kiddo, you’ll never be 'just' anything to me. Whatever you do and whoever you are is more than enough for me, cause I’m lucky just to have a kid as awesome as you are.”

“Mom said you'd say that,” Maggie admitted with a small smile. Speaking of 'mom', through the cracked bedroom door I could hear voices downstairs, all of them women, all of them raised, and one of them belonged to my wife. I glanced at my daughter who shrugged. “Nana's been yelling for a while now.”

I sighed. First thing in the morning was too early to deal with Charity drama. “Alright, I guess I better go save Molly then, huh?”

That garnered another shrug. “She's been yelling for a while too.”

I groaned. “Then I guess I better go save them both, from themselves if not each other.”

“Good luck. We’re staying right here until the yelling stops, aren’t we?” She addressed Mouse, who had climbed up into bed the moment I’d vacated it. Mouse made a woof of agreement.

I descended into chaos and strongly considered following my daughter’s wise course of action before deciding that if I was going to face one fairy Queen today, I might as well face another, along with her mother and (to my extreme confusion) sister. My confusion was only worsened when I entered the room and found Molly and Charity were not, in fact, yelling at each other. Instead, they were both yelling at a very patient, or perhaps bored, Alicia.

“–no idea the kind of danger we're facing and–”

“–your father! I raised you to have more sense than–”

“–worked too hard to keep you brats safe to have you screw it all up by–”

“–fool of a sister, but not from you and–”

“Hey Harry,” Alicia said, walking past both shouting women as if she didn’t even see them let alone hear them. She hugged me and smiled pleasantly. “Happy birthday! Glad you’re not dead. Again. For now.”

“Uh, thanks, I think,” I replied, protective instincts forcing me to leave one arm around her shoulders, partially shielding the back she had now exposed to both attackers. I could feel almost identical icy glares turn toward me (even if one also carried a menacingly chill breeze with it) as I looked down at my sister-in-law, calm as still waters. “I assumed you'd be with your dad and the kids.”

“We all assumed that,” Molly said, her gaze sliding back to her sister. “Especially dad, who didn't know she was here until we called him.”

“I told him I wasn’t going to stay from the start.” Alicia pointed out without raising her voice. “I just wanted to make sure Hope and Hank were settled before I joined you guys.”

“And like _I’ve_ said,” Molly was speaking between her clenched teeth, the smile on her face closer to the ones chimpanzees use to threaten other chimps than to anything resembling happiness or humor. “We will be fine. Now get your ass back through the portal and – oof – stay safe.” Even if she hadn’t made a sound, I'd have noticed the way her entire body tensed midsentence, one hand clutching low on her stomach. Charity had started loudly agreeing with her because apparently we'd fallen into Bizzaro world, but I was across the room with my hand over Molly's in a heartbeat’s time.

“What’s wrong?” I searched her face.

“Leech thinks she should come with us despite having no magic, no special abilities, no real knowledge of the supernatural world, and zero combat skills, experience or training.” Queen Molly responded, the crisp edge to her voice making it clear that her anger was starting to get the better of her. She was trying to hide it but she was a little too breathless for my comfort.

“No, I got that, I meant are you alright?” I brushed my fingers back and forth across hers, hoping this was one of the times where love and concern would break through Winter to get to her, rather than one of the times where she’d view my 'sentimentality' as a weakness in her Knight and get angrier for it. I was relieved when her expression softened just a bit, her eyes growing a shade or two darker.

“I’m fine.” I frowned harder, meeting her eyes, and a ghost of a smile played at her lips. “Just a little Blip-related discomfort. It’ll pass.”

“Is he okay? Are you in pain? Are you bleeding?” I felt gently around where she had her hand pressed. “I knew we should have had Sarissa check you out yesterday. You–”

“Was dad this bad or am I just lucky?” Molly asked, the ghost becoming a full-blown amused smile when she looked past me to address her mother as though I hadn’t said anything.

“Your father wanted to call the doctor every time I had a cough or hiccup to make sure you were okay.” Charity told her. “I think they worry and fret because they don’t have anything else to do to help until the baby’s born. It’s usually easiest to just let him fuss over you and gently remind him that you’ve read the same things he has and, in your case, have more experience with this sort of thing than he does, and will let him know if you suspect something might be wrong.”

“Good thing that wasn’t patronizing. Otherwise, I might be offended.” I growled.

“I'm fine,” Molly repeated, cupping my cheek with one hand. “ _We’re_ fine. It's just Braxton-Hicks. It'll go away. We've got a while yet before the main event, right Blip? Tell your daddy he should stop worrying so much.”

I felt the stupid lopsided smile spread across my face, just as she’d intended. “Fine. I guess we have bigger things to worry about right now anyway.”

“Right. Starting with sending _this_ one back to the safe house with dad.” Molly rounded on her sister.

“Okay, before you both start shouting again,” I wondered if it was years of practice or just her nature that allowed Alicia to address both of them respectfully but rationally and seemingly without fear. “Could I please explain _why_ I’m coming with you?”

Molly and Charity both immediately started harping on her at once and, because I apparently really _don’t_ have any survival instincts, I held up a hand to stop them both. To my extreme surprise, they both listened. I mean, I think it’s because they were both too shocked at me even attempting to silence them to know where to start, but hey, whatever works. “I’m with you on this,” I told Molly. I was used to getting death glares from Charity but my wife was a different story so I tried to head that off. “Hell, I wouldn’t let the rest of the gang tag along if we didn’t need them to even have the smallest chance of success. But clearly shouting at her hasn’t gotten you anywhere. Alicia, we appreciate that you want to help, but Molly and your mom are right, kid. Even if we win, even if she didn’t kill you or have you killed and you didn’t get caught in someone’s crossfire, you’d still be in danger. I’m sorry, but we can’t let you get caught up in our mess, not when it means you might lose your life or worse.”

I expected her to ask what could be worse than death (it’s what regular humans usually did when I said that) but I should have known a Carpenter woman would already know the answer. “’Kay. But just curious, don’t you think the upset in the balance is probably going to kill us anyway?” Three adults stared mutely at the young woman leaning in the doorway.

Finally, Molly asked the question we were all thinking. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the way I see it you’ve got a problem.”

“Just one?” Charity said dryly.

“One that’s unaddressed.” Alicia amended. “I’ve been talking with your friends since the wedding and I’ve been listening to your plans and I think you’ve got a major hole in them. I know what you’re both not saying. You don't want me to come with you because you think I'm a suitable vessel for one of the Ladies, right?”

“I don’t want you to come with us because it’s not safe, for a multitude of reasons,” Molly told her, and I felt the temperature drop with each word. The Winter Lady was not pleased to be discussing such matters with mortals.

“But yes, that’s one of them.” I jumped in, hoping that if I played mediator I could keep this from escalating into another screaming match.

She nodded. “I know. You’re right. I don’t know about all of the requirements to be suitable but I think I’ve got the most important part down. The whole ‘maiden’ thing. That’s why I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not!” All three of us chorused at once. We couldn’t have done it better if we’d rehearsed.

“You don’t have a choice.” She said firmly. “If you don’t want to destroy the whole planet, or at least the greater Chicago area, you need Balance. Without a Lady, the Balance won’t be maintained and it’ll be chaos. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it looks like you're fresh out of virgins in your war party.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Snapped Molly. “I can hold both powers indefinitely, once I'm Queen. And if we fail, she can do the same. This won’t upset the Balance.”

“You can hold it, but you can't use them both. And if you don't have an active Lady you'll be at a disadvantage to Summer because Sarissa already has her pieces lined up. And that assumes you win. If you lose, the Queen’s already told you who she's giving your mantle to, right? Do you really want to risk Maggie becoming Winter Lady on top of being orphaned, again?”

Ouch. That was the lowest blow she could have delivered, especially since she was right. “No.” Charity was the first one to answer. “Before we leave, Maggie will join you and your father in the safe house. He'll keep you all safe if we don’t come back, but you are not coming with us. I will NOT let the goddamned Winter Court have any more of my family!”

Alicia eyed her coolly. “Language, mother.” I thought Charity might explode, her face was so red. Her breathing labored until I worried that I might have to jump in front of her to keep her from strangling her own daughter. But Alicia gave no ground and Charity made a frustrated growl then stormed off, muttering to herself as she pulled an old, worn flip phone from her pocket.

“I think your father is going to hear about this,” I said, watching my mother-in-law go.

“Of course. But nothing he says is going to change the fact that I’m right. You don’t have any other options. I know being Winter Lady isn’t the greatest job in the world but–”

“You know nothing about being Winter Lady, kid,” I told her, shaking my head.

“Mood stability issues. Being at the Queen’s beck and call. Perpetual virgin-hood. I get it. Really.”

“And the kidnapping?” I asked. “You’re on board for that? How about killing people? You ready to cut down an old lady who begs you for mercy because she’s violated one of Winter’s laws that’s punishable by death and death alone? And when you mention that eternal virgin-hood, did you know Winter fills you with a constant demand to fuck, fight and kill anything and everything you see? Can you handle an eternity of being alone, watching the rest of your family living their lives, married with kids and jobs, until they all grow old and wither in front of your eyes?”

She’d paled a little but still stood her ground. “If that’s what I have to do, yes.”

“No, you can’t.” Molly’s voice was hoarse. “Trust me, you can’t. No one can do this, be this, and still handle it. We all go a little crazy. You start to lose sense of who you are. You can’t lie, can’t defy the Queen’s orders, can’t completely control your own body. Or your own mind. The only person you can sleep with is the Winter Knight. If we survive, I guarantee you I won’t share, not ever. If we don’t survive…Harry’s the first Knight who hasn’t raped or murdered someone in cold blood. Whoever she picks, won’t be someone you’ll want to share a bed with.”

Alicia waited patiently for her sister to finish. “You’re probably right. I can’t imagine that there’s anyone suitable to wield the Winter Knight’s power that I would want to share a bed with. That’s not a problem for me.” She rocked onto the balls of her feet, hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I’m usually looking for something different in a partner. Like um. Like, boobs.”

“You…uh…since when?” Molly, shocked instantly back to her normal state in a rush, stammered.

“Since ever.” Alicia rolled her eyes, but she looked a little too nonchalant for me to believe it wasn’t forced. “It’s not exactly something that just happens.”

“But, we used to talk all the time about our crushes and you never said…you always talked about boys.”

“Yeah well, you didn’t tell me you were a witch until you’d already become Harry’s apprentice so let’s just admit we both had our secrets.” She was looking resolutely at a spot on the floor about halfway between us. “I made up names, changed pronouns. You get so used to it after a while it becomes a reflex. I’ve never been as eager to piss off mom and dad as you and I’ve never been brave enough to tell them. I’m only telling you now because, well, I’m not in any danger of doing something that might make me less of a maiden in the technical sense. So that’s one less thing we need to worry about and…what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Molly didn’t explain why she was looking at her sister 'like that’, but it wasn’t hard to guess. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she was across the room in a flash, pulling her into a tight embrace. Alicia noticeably relaxed and hugged her back after a beat. “Leech,” I heard my wife murmur against her head. “You could have told me. You didn’t need to hide. I wouldn’t – won’t – say anything to them if you don’t want me to, or I’ll stand with you if you want to tell them. I’ll tell them for you if you want. They’re used to me telling them stuff they don’t want to hear.”

They both laughed. “I'm okay for now. But I didn't come here for a coming-out party. I _am_ coming with you because I'm the most suitable candidate. I've been thinking about it for a while now and I've done my research and I'm not afraid. Well, actually I'm very afraid but I'm going to do it anyway.”

That wasn't the end of the conversation by a long shot, but in the end, Molly and I had to admit she was right. We needed a Lady. If we won, Molly would do what she could to make sure her Winter Lady wasn’t as fucked as Mab's had been. If we lost, at least we knew Maggie wouldn't be stuck with it. Not that Alicia was much better but she was going into it with eyes wide open. And I had to admit she had a level head and an ability to show deference to authority figures while politely disagreeing, both of which would make her a better Winter Lady than not. “You’re staying on the boat.” Molly finally caved. “If you don’t have to take the power, I don’t want you to. Plus, Demonreach is way creepy and no one should be on its land unless they have to.”

Charity was predictably not on board for that plan nor were, as it turned out, most of our friends. I couldn’t blame them. I was barely on board myself. But Molly declared that she’d made this decision and anyone who didn’t like following her lead probably shouldn’t be helping her become Queen of the Unseelie Fae. Michael spoke with Molly for awhile over the phone, then with Alicia and finally with Charity again and I don’t know whether they ultimately agreed or if they’d just resigned themselves to the fact that there was nothing they could do about it. I hated it, but there was a part of me that was relieved – at least now if we succeeded and Molly wasn’t able to handle both mantles we had a backup plan.

My daughter wasn’t the only one smart enough to hide at the sounds of Molly and Charity yelling since the downstairs was suddenly full of people scrambling for coffee and breakfast once everything settled down. The waiting tension that had pervaded the group the day before was back with a fury and I couldn’t muster up the positivity to give another pep talk. Fortunately, most of us were seasoned enough that we didn’t let a little thing like pre-battle jitters stop us from acting like it was just another day. “On a sliding scale of birthdays, is this pretty much the worst?” Molly asked, joining me on the back patio. After so long in the Midwest, it felt wrong to be sitting in a patch of midday sun, sweating through my shirt in the upwards of 80-degree weather, on Halloween. Fortunately, my wife wasn’t immune to the anxiety that impacted us all and she radiated cold better than any air conditioner.

“So far? I’ve had birthdays that started off worse.” I shrugged. “I haven’t needed you to rescue me from pixies, for a start. And I’m not worried about whether you’re involved in a murderous plot.”

She smiled wanly. “You _know_ I’m involved in a murderous plot this year.”

“But so far this has 100% less burning kelpies. Whose awful idea was that, by the way?”

“Mm. It was my bag of iron shavings, but Margaret used it.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “You almost caught us that time. We were hiding in the corner under a veil. You said 'damnit Molly’ and I totally panicked before I realized you were talking to yourself.”

“You saw all that, huh?” I rubbed at the back of my neck awkwardly, trying to remember exactly what I’d said during my outburst after failing to save Dougal. “Sorry.”

Molly rocked her head back and forth, as close as she could come to shaking her head without moving. “Nothing to apologize for or be embarrassed about. You weren’t the one on a murder spree.”

“You didn’t have a choice, Molls,” I assured her. “Just like you don’t now.”

“We had to kill them. We didn’t have to do it like that. You don’t even know the worst of the stuff we did. I'm not sure you’d be able to look at me the same if you did.”

“Haven’t you learned better by now, Grasshopper?” I teased. “There's not a thing you could do that would change the way I feel about you. Even when I believed the Queen’s lies, I still loved you. And I know you. Whatever you did, you did for a good reason.”

“You’re right.” Her voice was hard. “I did it because I have no patience or mercy for anyone who tries to fuck with my family. And if I’m being honest, the only reason I felt bad about anything I did is because I knew you’d be disappointed, not because I regretted doing it. I’d have killed them either way, I didn’t have a choice in that, but the violence, the brutality? That was because they involved you.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still took a while for me to digest that. Once I had I put my arm around her, rubbing her shoulder. “Love makes us do crazy things.”

“Like try to kill physical embodiments of primal forces of nature?”

“Like that.” I agreed. “Or get married, have a few kids and settle down with your former apprentice.”

“Not necessarily in that order.” She tilted her head up just as I leaned down to kiss her and we both smiled when our lips met. “I’m going to be pissed if we die today.”

“Guess I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.” I kissed her again. “Plus, last year’s present was so good, I can’t wait to see what you got me this year.”

“Well, I think a repeat performance is out of the question.” She glanced down at her swollen midsection. “Might be hard to pretend I’m 17 again.”

“I was pretending very hard that you were 18, for the record. I may be a creep but even I have standards.” She laughed, the first purely happy one I’d heard since the night we’d been kidnapped, and I felt my worries just melt away. I don’t know why I felt like everything would be okay. A happy Molly didn’t magically guarantee that we’d be able to do the impossible. But for some reason, it felt like if I could still make her laugh like that, somehow we’d manage. “But I guess you’re right. It would be hard to pretend I was corrupting you in your current state, and that’s half the fun. How about we pretend you’re my very pregnant, very beautiful wife and after a long month apart, full of danger and heartache, we’re finally safe and sound in our own bed and we can do whatever we want with each other?”

“That’s an oddly specific request. You have quite the imagination.” Her eyes sparkled and she made a show of considering it. “I’ll tell you what, if we're both still alive at the end of this mess, I promise you can do whatever you want with me. Everything and anything. All night. All yours **.** ”

I'd been joking. In the highly unlikely event that Mab didn't crush us like so many ants, I expected us to be so worn out we’d pass out the moment it was all over. If we even made it to the bed I’d be surprised. But hearing those words brought me right back to our first time, to her trembling voice and the look in her eyes as she offered herself to me, willing to risk everything for even one night with me. Could I have guessed then what I’d be willing to risk for her? Could I have ever imagined that one night would change everything, not just for us, but for so many people, maybe the whole world depending on how this went down? Probably not. But I knew for sure I wouldn't have changed a single thing even if I had known. Molly was worth all the risk. The life we'd built together, our daughters, and soon our son, they were worth the risk, worth everything. I kissed her deeply, everything in me burning for her with an intensity to rival the sun itself. “Deal.”

The hardest thing I did all day was leaving Maggie. Everyone else went straight back to Chicago to make the last necessary arrangements and to get in position. The five of us (three Dresdens, two Carpenters) took a winding route through the Ways, careful to stick to only the Wyld areas until we came out a short walk from the safe house. I wasn’t sure where we were exactly, but it was remote and wooded. I left her at the door, knowing that if I went inside I’d never be able to drag myself away. I'd expected hysterics, but I should have known better. Maggie was Susan’s daughter through and through. She hugged me tightly, with tears in her eyes, but she didn't beg me to stay or to take her with us or anything like that. When we pulled away, she just said, “I love you, daddy.”

I was kneeling so that we were closer in height and I'm glad because the quiet strength she put into the words might have floored me otherwise. “I love you too, sweet pea. I've gotta go now.”

“I know.”

“If I didn't have to, I wouldn't. You know that, right?”

“Mhm.” She nodded her head.

“And you promise to stay here and listen to Papa Michael?”

“Yes. Now go be a hero! I'll stay right here until you come back.” The implication was clear – _but you better come back._

“Thank you. I'll see you later, Maggie.”

Molly had her own goodbyes, not just with Maggie but with the rest of the family. I kept watch outside, unable to face that many tearful farewells, especially knowing I was at least partially responsible for them. I should have known there was no escaping Michael, not with something like this. I heard the thump of his cane as he approached and wished I had something to do with my hands other than fidget. “It feels strange to be on this side of the send-off.” He commented. His breath fogged in the air.

“Must be hard.”

He grunted. “It's certainly given me a new appreciation for what Charity went through for so many years. In a way, it's harder. At least on the warrior’s side, you know that what you do will impact the battle. This way, I can do nothing but pray for you and the girls and wait for a phone call.”

“You'll keep the kids safe and calm. That's one less thing we need to worry about. You'll be here on the other end of the phone if we need to reach you. You're no more useless than Charity was when you went off to battle, and you’d have to be an idiot to think she was useless.”

“Doubly so to say it out loud where she might hear it.” I know he wanted me to laugh but I couldn't even fake one for him.

I looked at him finally. “I'm sorry, Michael. You've always been there for me and all I've ever done is mess up your life. Now I'm dragging your wife and kids into my trouble. I never meant for any of this to happen. I know it doesn't make it right but I swear to you I just wanted to make Molly happy.”

Michael just smiled. “You _have_ made her happy. And I believe you will continue to do so for a very long time. ‘Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.’”

“Love itself might not, but people can, no matter how in love we are.”

“True, but love helps.” Something bumped against my hand and I looked down to find a worn, battered scabbard, familiar as an old friend in Michael's strong grip. “When you went missing, I decided to keep an eye on it for you. I had a feeling you might need it.”

I stared at Amorrachius, deceptively unassuming in its leather casing. “You sure? You remember what happened the last time I wielded it, right?”

“We have had this conversation before, Harry. I remember a scared, foolhardy young man who was in over his head making a mistake borne out of ignorance.” I found myself thinking that if I survived the day I’d have to practice making that confident, supportive, fatherly smile he had that always made me feel like I could do no wrong in his eyes. _That's what a dad should look like_ I thought. “But in the hands of a loving husband and father, fighting for his family and for justice? Yes, I'm sure. Although you are still it’s custodian, so the question is really whether or not _you’re_ sure.”

“I'm not sure of anything right now.” I sighed, my stomach doing somersaults. “But I guess I'd rather have it, just in case.”

“Have a little faith, Harry. If not in the Almighty, at least in yourself.” I took the sword and he pulled me into an embrace. “Godspeed. I’ll pray for you all until you've returned safely.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

“It's the least I can do, son. The rest is up to you.”


	6. Chapter 6

“She knows we're here,” Molly said quietly, as we stepped through the portal back to our living room. The house had an odd, empty feeling to it, a month without residents weakening the threshold until it no longer felt like a home, just a building. “She's talking to me.”

“What’s she saying?” Alicia asked.

“I'm sure we don't want to know,” I replied, watching the glow that had lit my wife's full-moon eyes, going on defense immediately. “What do we do?”

“Hurry. Otherwise, the plan is the same. We just don't need to worry about how we’re going to get her to us.” She dashed into the hallway, snatching my keys off the hook by the door and tossing them to her mother. “Drive to the marina. Thomas will be waiting for you guys there. Tell him to go as soon as you're on board. We’ll meet you on Demonreach. Remember, Alicia stays on the boat and no one steps foot on land until Harry gives the okay.”

Molly didn’t wait to see if they followed her command, instead heading straight out the door and assuming I'd follow. She was right. I was running full speed to keep up with her as she bounded down the street. We whipped past houses kitted out for the holiday, and the occasional costumed pedestrian. We narrowly avoided getting hit by two different cars and, at least in my case, only by dint of my reflexes being quicker on the draw than I was. “Where are we going?” I asked, breathing a little harder with exertion than I would have a month prior. It takes forever to get in shape but not so long to get out of it again.

“Demonreach.” She replied and even though she didn’t slow or look back, I heard her voice clear as day. Which wasn’t spooky at all.

“Right. And how are we getting there?”

“Running.”

I directed a flat look toward the back of her head and kept going. “Yes, I gathered that. But how are we getting to the _island_ itself? Murphy and her crew don’t know to wait for us, you just told your mom to tell Thomas not to wait for us, and we don't own a boat.”

She glanced over her shoulder without stopping (which seemed like a bad idea to me but she managed just fine.) “Boats? Where we’re going we don't need boats.”

“I’m pretty sure a DeLorean would be about as ineffective as running there. And we don't have one of those either.”

She didn't answer right away and when she did her voice had lost the humor. “I don't know when she'll strike. You're right, you don't want to know what she’s saying. But she knows where we are, and if she catches up with us before we make it to the island, I don't want anyone else around for it. If we're not on Demonreach, we’re dead no matter how many allies we have with us. The least we can do is minimize the casualties to just us.” I couldn't fault that logic, bleak though it was. It still didn't answer how she planned on getting halfway across Lake Michigan without any kind of seafaring vessel but I decided to trust that she had a plan.

When we reached the shoreline (nowhere near any kind of dock, beach or access point) and she still hadn’t elaborated, I grew less confident. She drew to a stop in the shallows, with the frigid waves lapping at her feet. “You’re not going to like this, and I don't care. You just have to go with it, okay?” I should have known. Of course, she had a plan – it was just a batcrap crazy one.

I had some questions. I would follow that woman to hell and back if I had to, but I've never done anything in my life without question and I was too old to start now. When someone says something like 'just go with it’, I might just go with it, but I'll ask questions while I'm going. In this case, things like, 'why won't I like it?’ or 'what am I just going with?’ sprung to mind. Those questions all evaporated as she knocked my legs out from under me and scooped me up in a lover's carry. I didn't even have time to yelp before she bolted straight out into the lake.

A few things became clear to me all at once. The first was that I had not been just barely keeping up with her speed when I hauled ass across town. I had been running as fast as my legs would carry me, and my wife had been slowing herself down considerably to match my pace. The second item that became clear was that Molly had meant it when she said she intended to run all the way to Demonreach. Waves turned to ice floes beneath her feet. They didn’t seem thick enough to actually hold our combined weight for any period of time but it was enough for her to propel us forward. It wasn’t flying, but it felt damn close. The third was that I didn’t care for being carried like an infant (and she was holding me like I weighed damn near the same as one) as we hurtled through the cold, October air with a vast, empty, dark body of water as far as the eye could see, waiting to swallow us whole.

“This is mortifying,” I mumbled.

She kept her eyes fixed ahead, scanning the horizon, but an amused smile crawled across her lips. “I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

“Have you always been able to be ice Jesus or is this a new thing?” I asked, studying her face because it was look at her or look at the black waves we were precariously skipping across. Also, it was _her_ face. It didn’t matter that I’d already memorized every single line and curve of it, I could still stare at it all day and be perfectly content with that.

“I’ve done it a few times before, but the super-speed is a newer thing. I think it’s a Blip side-effect.” She exhaled hard. “She knows where we’re headed.”

“It wasn’t the hardest mystery to solve. Where else would we go for a standoff?”

She shook her head impatiently. “She knows our positions. The only reason she hasn’t killed us all yet is because she’s enjoying watching us sweat.” With that cheery thought, we continued along in silence for maybe another five or ten minutes. I was so lost in my own thoughts I jerked at the sound of her voice when she finally spoke again. “We’re going to win. We’re going to be okay. All of us.”

“Of course we are,” I said, with more conviction than I felt by a mile.

“But just in case.” She squinted off in the distance and it let us both pretend that it was the spray of the water she kicked up that glistened on her cheeks and lashes and not tears. “Just in case I don’t get a chance to tell you, I wanted to say thank you. Everything, _everything_ , we’ve been through, it’s all been worth it because of you. You've made me happy and complete in a way I didn’t know it was possible to feel and I just…I love you. Thank you for giving me the best year of my life.”

“Only seems fair. I’ve also given you the worst years of your life.” I mumbled, trying to stall for the time I needed to shut up the way my brain was screaming in terror at the 'goodbye' in her words. “And I think you mean the best year so far. It’s only going to get better from here.” I looked down. “But just in case. I want you to know that I regret every single time I stopped myself from kissing you, every single day I woke up and you weren’t beside me. After everything, I was feeling untethered, like I didn't know who I was or where I belonged for a long time until you showed me. You gave me a life worth living. I love you too, Molls. More than you'll ever know. More than I could ever put into words.”

She sniffled. “Good thing you'll have plenty of time to try, since we're all going to be just fine, after all.”

“Right. Of course.” I agreed.

“We’re almost there.” I looked out from my undignified perch in her arms and could see the steadily growing dark spot on the horizon.

I stated the obvious. “She hasn’t attacked us yet.”

“Of course not.” Molly scowled. “She’s Mab. She'll wait until she can do it as dramatically as possible. You know how the sidhe are.”

“That feels like a trap. But you're right, I know how _she_ is at the least.” I was starting to be able to make out the shapes of the dock and the approaching ships along the coast. There were several vessels already anchored along the coast that weren’t ours, presumably Mab’s forces getting into position. I tried not to think about how many more ships she had or how many people and creatures each one could hold. “Don't suppose there's any way you could put me down and I could run over the waves with you for this last stretch?”

“I’m not sure if it would work for you.” She said apologetically.

“Can you veil us so that if we _do_ survive, I can at least show my face around our friends and family again?”

“I’d rather not. I don't want anything to distract my focus from Mab. Her voice is getting louder so I think she's closer, maybe.” She glanced down at me with a fond smile. “Is your ego really so fragile you can’t let the guys see you being carried by a woman?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. A little.”

“You’ll survive. And if you don’t, it won’t be because of embarrassment.” Molly paused to consider for a moment before adding. “It might be in an embarrassing way, but not from embarrassment itself.”

“That’s reassuring,” I muttered.

“Shit.” Molly lurched to a sudden stop and the unexpected change in velocity threw most of my internal organs up into my throat for a moment. We were standing on a patch of ice, bobbing up and down with the waves and Molly spun in a slow circle, scanning the horizon in all directions. “Mab.”

“Where?” I peered around as best I could from the cradle of her arms.

“I don’t know. But she stopped talking, which can’t be good.” She stared out over the lake.

“Hey, Molls?”

“Yeah, Harry?”

“Does the island seem further away than it did a second ago?”

“Shit.” The tide was going out. Very out. Very quickly. “Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!” Molly continued sprinting toward Demonreach, and I tried not to think about the tidal wave that had to be forming behind us. I’d never seen a tsunami in person, and I would have been perfectly happy if that never changed.

When I noticed that the seafaring vessels anchored around my island were all now grounded in only a few feet of water, I rubbed one hand across my face and groaned. We were close but at the rate the water was receding, I didn’t think we’d make it in time. I could shield us no problem and even without it, we were both pretty resilient. I wasn’t too concerned. The several normal humans with normal human bodies that were on the boats, on the other hand…I didn’t like their odds. “I need you to throw me.”

“What?”

“We’re not making it in time to get everyone ashore and I need to be the first one on the land so I can let Alfred know the score. I’m betting you can throw me there faster than you can run us both there.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind breaking more bones. Do you know how fast we’re going?!?!”

“I’ll manage. Just do it.”

“I’m about to be high Queen of Winter y’know. I don’t take orders from you.” She was smiling when she said it though. With a shake of her head and a quick kiss, she repositioned me. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Imagine driving in a convertible down a highway in the middle of the Arctic circle, doing excess of 120 with the wind and snow whipping past you. Now double the speed, remove the car, and add a rocky shore as your rapidly approaching destination. If I had enough time to think of something other than figuring out how to survive, I would have been screaming. Instead, I brought my shield up in a semi-sphere around me and pushed out a cushion of air to keep me from slamming into it at full force. The result was that I at least wasn’t concussed, and anything that _did_ break or bruise on me wasn’t significant enough to impair me through my mantle. I was a little wobbly when I made it to my feet but since I didn’t have time to worry about that, I pressed on.

“Alfred. We’ve got company incoming.” I didn’t say it out loud but I didn’t need to. This was my island, and it knew what I knew as surely as I knew what it knew. Which is to say, we both had a difficult time understanding what the other meant since Alfred thought in the abstract and I thought in words and images, but I trusted that he’d get the idea this time. “Some are friends. Some are not.”

“MAB.” He echoed in my head, rattling my teeth.

“Yes. Mab is not a friend. We need to let our friends come in.” I ran while I thought at him, and waved for Thomas and Murphy, trying to ignore the wall of water that was building. “Anyone who means harm for Grasshopper, me or you is not a friend, and you can be as spooky and mean as you want to them. But friends shouldn’t be threatened, okay?”

I wasn’t sure if he was able to read intent from the people who invaded our territory, but I thought he might. He didn’t argue or question it. “I WILL TRY.” I also wasn’t sure which part he was answering, but it was good enough. Our whole crew came down the docks in a rush, scrambling for land and higher ground. I gestured to the footpath that would take us further up the hill towards the lighthouse, making sure everyone was accounted for and hurrying up while keeping an eye on Molly. She was almost to the shore, which was now several feet further out than it had been as the water continued receding. I was pretty sure that with an actual tsunami we'd have all drown already, but I guess primal forces of nature aren't bound by the constraints of normal weather patterns. I stretched my shield out in a wedge in front of me, walking backward so I could get higher up myself but unwilling to turn tail and run without Molly. The wave crested, a solid, dark wall of water that consumed the horizon, just as Molly took her first step onto Demonreach, and my stomach lurched when I realized she would never make it even to me let alone to the top of the hill before it crashed into us both.

“Molly!” A smarter man would have stayed where he was, on higher ground, and shielded her from a distance. But a smarter man probably wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place, so there I was, running back towards her. We met at the base of the trail and I caught her in one arm, wrapping my shield tight around us like a bubble. The wave crashed with a sound like a tornado and a thunderstorm had an unholy love child, so loud and powerful it made my brain reel, like my ears couldn't process what they were hearing. The docks and all the ships that were anchored at the shore disappeared beneath it. The concussive force was enough to send me staggering back a few steps but Molly kept me upright. Everything moved in slow motion, several feet of muddy water oozing its way toward us, consuming everything in its path. It’s the only reason I even had time to notice the chariot, black as the midnight sky, drawn by two of the biggest, meanest-looking equine-shaped monstrosities I'd ever seen.

Their coats rippled in blues, greens, and purples, like they were waves made solid, and in place of manes, they tossed about long strands of seaweed as they charged. Great wings rose from their backs, translucent and grey, almost as if they were made of fog banks and seafoam. I would have called them majestic, except the first word that came to mind instead was 'horrifying.’ Their eyes burned with a cold blue fire and their mouths were filled with wicked black fangs, like fossilized shark’s teeth. At least they only had one row, from what I could tell. I didn’t have any desire to go closer and double-check, especially when they touched down with the chariot behind them and I caught sight of the driver.

Molly had been right of course – Queen Mab had waited until she could make the most dramatic entrance. Her hair, like her eyes, dress, lips and, (though I couldn’t see them yet, I was willing to bet) fingernails, was jet black and she wore it down so that it flew out behind her in a wind that didn't exist for us. She wore a glittering crown of ice and diamonds, and her dark eyes glistened with rage and madness. She was here for judgment and I had no doubts that she intended to be judge, jury, and executioner for this case. If I wasn’t already determined to run for higher ground, the sight of her would have been enough to send me hauling ass in the opposite of her direction.

I changed my shield into a large wedge and held it behind us as we scampered up the footpath. The water slammed into it and crashed around the shield but Molly froze a short wall on either side of us, keeping a channel clear all the way up. I was worried my wrist was going to snap from the invisible pressure, the broken bones in my hand (outstretched behind me) aching even through the mantle from the strength of the surge, but we made it to the top of the hill and the muddy water did not. I already wanted to collapse and the battle hadn’t even started in earnest – not a good sign. Molly wasted no time, barking out orders in a crisp, commanding tone, sending everyone to their positions.

“I think I can have Alfred bring up a barrier again. It might buy us some time.” I told her.

Molly shook her head and stood tall by my side, watching the path we’d taken up. Mab, who had been hot on our heels previously, was not in sight. My connection with Alfred told me that her kelpies on steroids (Each-uisge, I'd later find out) had been ensnared by roots which had halted their pursuit. That didn’t answer the question of where Mab was though. I didn’t sense her anywhere on the island, and I should have been able to. “The plan was always to get her here.” My wife reminded me. “We don’t want to keep her out, we want her to show her conniving, evil, traitorous face.” She scanned all around us as she snarled her last few words, then she looked over at me. Her eyes were already glowing, power thick between us, and the smile that played on her lips was crueler than I’d have liked. “Don’t let her scare you, Harry. Yes, she’s a monster, but you’re the thing monsters are afraid of. Don’t forget that.”

“And are you afraid of him, daughter mine?” Mab’s voice drifted through the trees surrounding the hilltop, disembodied and haunting with a slight echo. “Surely you are every bit the monster I am.”

“She is NOT your daughter!” Charity corrected into the wind. The only answer was mocking laughter.

“Enough games,” Molly said, standing in the center of the natural circle. “We both know why we're here. We know how this has to end.”

“ _You know nothing of why I am here, contumacious mooncalf!”_ Her words were grating on the ears, harsh and furious. “You think because you have filled your belly with Dresden’s by-blow, you are somehow worthy of my throne. In truth, you have failed in your duties as Winter Lady and risked the ruin of our Court, all to spread your legs for a man who only came to your bed once he was duty-bound to do so. Ignoring for a moment the power disparity between us, do you truly think you are responsible enough to take my place even if you could end me?”

“I'm not taking the bait, Mab.” Molly sounded angry but controlled. “I'm not ashamed of my relationship with my husband or of our child. Since when do the fae care about things like the legitimacy of our children anyhow? Overthrowing your rule is the only responsible thing to do. You’re a tyrant, and a psycho and I can't let it go on anymore.”

“And what will you do to stop me?” I blinked and she was there, maybe two yards in front of us. If Molly was surprised, she didn't show it. “I have armies at my command. You and your handful of mages, mortals and miscreants are already surrounded. Have you grown so power-drunk that you think you can stop me in addition to all of Winter?”

“Me?” Molly feigned shock, and the fact that she was speaking in her normal cheery voice only made it more chilling when she said, “Oh, as a Queen of Winter myself I couldn't possibly raise my hand against you, no matter how much I’d like to sink my claws into your chest, rip out that shriveled husk you call a heart and shove it so far down your throat it comes out the other side. I live to serve. I'm just here to help the people who _are_ going to stop you.”

Mab's dark lips curled in a Cheshire smile. “You must be so proud of her, Harry. All grown up and making her own foolish, reckless decisions. Dragging your friends into mortal peril. Threatening and boasting in the hopes that no one notices she is outnumbered, overpowered, and overwhelmed. Truly, you have groomed her well, she is so like you.”

I laughed. “Nah, she's too smart to be too much like me. And too competent. Too brave.” Mab was laying her power on thick enough that I was almost choking on it, trying to intimidate me or crush me, but beside me, I could feel Molly's own power wash over us both, and it took some of the weight off.

“Oh, you even have Harry fooled.” She purred. “Almost as if you are afraid that he will see what you and I know is the truth: that in many ways, you are still the same scared, naïve, desperate child who stood here three years ago.”

Molly just smirked. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? I _am_ still the same person, underneath it all, despite your best efforts. Not quite as naïve or scared or young as I was then. But still me. You thought you could break me and make me yours, the dutiful, loyal Lady that Maeve never was. But you don't understand me any better than you understood her, do you? I'm not the pawn you thought I was. I'm a goddamn Queen.”

“Even the queen is just a playing piece in the end. Very well.” Her voice rose until it boomed like thunder across the hilltop. “Margaret Dresden née Carpenter, We find thee guilty of treason against the Winter Court and it's Queen. Harry Dresden, We find thee guilty of aiding and abetting these treasonous acts. The punishment for both of these crimes under Winter Law is death. Shouldst thou submit peacefully, We will choose to ignore the others assembled here and not bring charges against the White Court, the White Council or Baron Marcone for the actions of their people against Us. Shouldst thou choose to fight, We will bring Winter down upon all assembled, and We have thee surrounded and outnumbered.”

I looked to Molly. Would we have any chance, just the two of us? Probably not. But how much of a chance did we have with everyone? I wasn’t sure she'd be able to deliver on her threat under the Accords since no one was here as an official representative but there were two wardens and a member of the senior council. It might be enough, especially with fae trickery. Molly’s cool, collected façade cracked just enough for me to see the same thoughts reflected in her eyes. Our odds were low either way. We couldn’t risk our family, our friends, all-out war, not when the price to save them was something we’d almost certainly be paying either way. I couldn't just give in and give up but I’d already started one war, I didn't need my legacy to be another, especially since it sounded like she was planning to make it a supernatural world war. I'd have to goad her into taking me out first. Maybe then I could weaken her enough with my death curse that Molly would have a fighting chance. Molly’s eyes met my own, and even though I could tell she knew what I was thinking, I gave her the slightest of nods anyway. She grimaced but nodded herself and turned back toward Mab’s impassive gaze. She opened her mouth with resignation and –

“Now see, you’re assuming that we’re gonna let you ignore us.” Ebenezer drawled from behind her, leaning casually on his staff. “I can't speak for all of us, but I can personally guarantee that if you lay a finger on that boy or his woman, I’ll be coming for you until one or both of us is dead.”

“I think the old man speaks for all of us pretty damn well,” Mom called. “Anyone disagree?”

Silence echoed across the hilltop, nothing but the sound of rustling trees and waves against the distant coast. Molly’s hand found mine, holding on in a vice-like grip. “Well, I guess you have your answer.” She was back to the chipper voice and somehow just hearing it made me feel less uneasy. “No sense in going gentle into that good night if this lot is going to carry on with or without us.”

“So be it.” With those three words echoing unnaturally off Mab’s dark lips, chaos erupted. Fetches, hobs, sylphs, and all other manner of horrors surged out of the trees and set upon us. In seconds the quiet was replaced by the sounds of gunfire, animal screeches and spells being slung. Thomas’s blades danced, spilling fae blood wherever they struck. Sanya stood back to back with Murphy, his AK rapidly belting out in perfect time with the _bap bap bap bap_ of her SIG. Waldo swung Fidelacchius in wide arcs, keeping close to Charity with her nail gun and Alicia. Will and Andi were in wolf form and were savaging anything they could sink their claws or fangs into. Lightning danced from Elaine's fingers, stunning and searing, and Carlos was right beside her. Ebenezer held a large swath of land by himself, with waves of his staff that crumpled half of our assailants and left the remainder weakened. My mother cleaned up what he missed. I used my connection with Demonreach to sense where I was needed most, casting spells with one hand while the other wielded Ammorachius, hurrying from one cluster to another.

Molly, like Mab, stayed in the center of it all. I might have believed she was just standing there if it weren't for the ring of ice spreading out from under her feet. I couldn't see the struggle going on between the two Queens of Winter, but I could feel it. The whole hilltop was filled with energy, charged like the air before a lightning strike, or maybe like a house with a gas leak just waiting for a match. I tried several times to make a lunge for Mab, hoping Molly had kept her distracted enough to allow me to land a miracle hit, but there were too many enemies to allow me to stop defending for even a few seconds. We were fighting valiantly but as Mab had pointed out, we were surrounded and outnumbered, and gradually those greater numbers were pushing us further and further back, towards the Queens and their rippling power. We wouldn’t last forever, and all it would take was one person to falter and we’d be overrun.

Behind me someone, I thought maybe Charity, made a pained noise and I spun to check only to be walloped in the back of the head by god alone knows what and I found one knee buckling. I called on Winter, trying to stabilize and maybe gain some kind of advantage, giving the Knight a little more of the reins. I didn’t realize my mistake until it was too late. With all the power rolling around, with rage and desperation already making me more animal than man, ceding even an inch of control to the Knight was all I needed to lose it entirely. Everything came into focus, sharper, clearer. The smell of blood was in the air and we of Winter were growing frenzied with it. Some of it was fae, but more of it was other – mortal blood, hot and fresh. Fear and anger drifted on the air like a sweet perfume. And standing above me, in all her glory, stood the Queen.

Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness. Queen of Unseelie Sidhe. Beautiful. Deadly. She was Queen of Winter and I was Winter's Knight. She bared her teeth in a delighted grin, and I knew she was pleased with me, pleased to have her servant. I seethed at her assumption that I was hers to control, yet I knew what she wanted and without a second thought, I moved to heed her call. Blood. Fear. These things flowed because our Queen had commanded it. She, who knew better than any just what we are, what we wanted and needed. Matriarch of dark delights, radiant mistress of the night. I hated her more than I'd ever hated anything before. I wanted to tear her to pieces, to drink the blood of a Queen and taste her power, and at the same time I wanted, no I _needed_ to please her, more than I needed the air in my lungs.

“Yes.” The Winter Queen hissed, as I rose to my feet and in one swift action, wrapped icy claws around the Usurper's throat, standing behind her.

“Harry.” The would-be Queen said, voice strained. “Harry, come back to me. Don't listen to her.”

“He is _my_ Knight, traitor.” Her cold voice dripped with malice and I felt a growl forming low in my throat. “Go on, Sir Dresden. You know what I desire of you.” I tightened my grip. The little Queen’s flesh seemed resistant, my claws not sinking in as far as I intended, drawing only the slightest trickle of blood. It smelled divine and I intended to sink my teeth into her and taste for myself ere the night was out, but something was wrong. She wasn’t afraid. I held her life in my hands, ready to rip right through her leaping pulse, but I inspired no fear in her.

Her voice was entirely too calm, too gentle. It didn't tremble, it wasn't weak or halting. “Harry. You don't want to do this.” The growl escaped my throat this time. Who was she to tell me what I wanted? I wanted silky white flesh against mine, to feel her pulse thumping even harder, her screaming under me while I took her, the taste of her blood and skin on my tongue. Fire and rage and fear and pain. I wanted to drag it out of her and. No. I wanted. What did I want? I shook my head, digging my claws in harder. Behind me, there was a bestial roar of pain, one of the mongrels fighting against Winter, and the former Lady tried to turn to inspect the damage, but I held her steady. Her eyes tracked up to mine over one of her shoulders and there was more urgency when she spoke again. “Come Hell or high water. Come on, Harry. Maggie’s waiting for us, _all_ of us, to come home.”

Maggie. The word flashed in front of my brain like a floodlight in the darkest night, blinding and painful. My offspring. My daughter. No, our daughter. “She has betrayed all of Winter, Sir Knight.” The White Queen reminded me. “She plots to destroy our Queen. Winter Law is clear on her punishment.”

It was. All traitors must die. We couldn’t afford a weakened Court. There were other voices, other sounds, humans calling for help, one shouting my name, but it wasn't important. I think. Or was it? Winter forces surged out of the trees, overwhelming the mewling mortal wretches that fought around us. “Harry.” The Usurper Queen’s eyes were shining, glowing, the most beautiful shade of blue. Staring at them, I almost forgot my anger for a moment. “I can't do this without you. We can do it, but I need you with me.”

“Your mortals are failing. Your lover obeys my commands, as he did before. Why fight? You carry the guilt of his death on your conscience, it is only fitting that he is the one to end your existence. There must be balance in all things, after all.”

“As long as there is still even the spark of life in me, I will fight. For my Court, for my friends, for my family…and for myself.” Finally, the anger that the smaller woman had been feeling came out, her words harsh and edged in fire. “I am sick and tired of having to give up, give in, sacrifice and scrape and bow and put aside my life for everyone else. I'm taking your throne to create a better world than you would ever allow, to free my people, to protect my family. But if you want to know why I’m still standing here, why I will fight you, personally, until my dying breath if I have to, it's because I refuse to back down this time. I finally have the life I've always wanted, and I won’t let you or anyone else take that away from me, not now, not ever. Now come on, Boss, stop messing around and help me kill this bitch.”

I loosened my grip. Why did I loosen my grip? I wanted to…I wanted to grab her tighter. I wanted…But, did I? I wanted her writhing and squirming beneath me, screaming in…pain? Or. Hmm. “Sir Dresden.” Mab snapped. “Do your duty. Obey your Queen.”

“There’s too many of them, Molly.” The demon-possessed huma– Thomas. Thomas called out. “If you've got any tricks up your sleeves, now’s the time.” 

“Damnit, damnit, damnit, damnit.” The... Molly. Molly swore under her breath. She shook her head, inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and in a voice that shook the very rocks and trees around us shouted. “Everybody just stop!”

To the surprise of everyone present, we all did.


	7. Chapter 7

Molly opened one eye, looked around in confusion, then up at me with a look of slow, dawning wonder. “Harry, I love you, you jerk, so stop trying to kill me and come back to us.”

I let go of her immediately, horrified as reason and rationality came crashing back to me. “Molls, I–”

“No. Bigger fish.” She shook her head. “Winter, drop your weapons and withdraw.” There was a clatter of swords, axes, clubs and the like being dropped. Molly exhaled slowly and as she did a change washed over her, like a glamour being dropped. She didn't actually change in size but somehow she seemed bigger, like she was occupying the same amount of space but filling it more fully. Her hair was jet black, and so were her eyes – not just her irises but the whole eye, sclerae included. On her head, she wore a shining silver crown, shaped to look like vines with holly sprigs and blooming hellebore woven in. “Mab. You kidnapped my husband. You imprisoned me. You threatened my daughter and tried to convince me that my son was the product of rape and should be given up. For these crimes, I will never forgive you, and will personally see you dead.”

“I have not violated Winter Law,” Mab replied, placidly. “You have no grounds to call me to judgment, even if you held authority over me. Furthermore, you are just a Lady, and one who I have already renounced at that, so you lack the power to sentence me.”

“Winter, please kneel to demonstrate for Ms. Mab what authority We hold over her.” Most of the creatures within sight knelt. “You have never violated your own Law, but you have neglected your duty just the same.”

“Do not speak to me of duty, you who have made a mockery of your mantle of power. The Gates still stand. I have done my duty, as I always have, and as I always will.”

“You have done the duty your mantle requires, but you've forgotten your title somewhere along the way. We've been given power to defend existence, and you've done that well, but you forget where a Queen's power comes from – her people. You've done what you must and no more. You view this whole world and everyone in it as just a means to an end.”

“That is what it means to be Winter Queen, termagant. You do not understand, and how could you when you are still so very human. The Balance must be upheld, the Gates must be defended and it is the Queen's sole purpose to be sure of it. As the fools in this rebellion of yours are fond of saying, I live to serve. We all do.”

Molly shook her head, stepping toward the Sidhe Queen. “It has been long since you were mortal, Mab, but I know you remember it. I was raised in the new world, ideals of liberty and democracy etched into my very bones from birth. But you can still remember when the world was run by monarchs, kings and queens and their dynasties. And you can remember what happened when they stopped taking the opinions of their people into consideration. Caligula, Charles I, Louis XVI. You've forgotten that you live to serve your subjects as well.”

“I have protected our existence for centuries. The only reason any of you, all of you, still draw breath is because I have ensured the survival of our plane and everything on it. You think you are the only one who has sacrificed?” Mab’s voice was the howl of the driving winds, echoing across a desolate frozen tundra and her eyes burned manic and fever-bright. “You think you are the only one who has had to choose between what you wanted and what you must do? A Queen cannot afford to be selfish and soft-hearted. This is the burden of sovereignty. There is no place for humanity on a throne.”

Queen Molly of Winter hummed thoughtfully. “I have found that there is one thing all ancient beings seem to have in common – despite having seen eons of change, you all think that just because something has always been one way it is the only way. The world has changed and so have the people in it, mortal and fae alike. I think you have demonstrated perfectly well that thrones are not fit for someone without at least a shred of humanity. Maybe in time, I will make enough hard decisions that I will forget that too, but in the meantime, I will carve out a better world for our people, _my_ people. I will be the Queen we need now.”

“You talk as if you have already slain me, yet I see no weapon you have drawn, no power you have called beyond what the bastard in your belly has thieved for you. I am Mab, child, and if you wish to take my throne, you will need more than pretty speeches. Or perhaps you have reached the logical conclusion that if you try to suit action to your words, you are like enough to fail?”

“’Like enough’. Am I the only one who finds it fascinating that even Mab herself doubts the certainty of her victory?” Molly looked around her at the assembled crowd with cruel amusement. She got more than one satisfied smile in return, including my own, before turning her attention back to the furious Queen. “You’re right, of course. I wouldn’t stand much of a chance against you in a direct conflict. I mean, my power _is_ waxing while yours is waning, but you’ve clearly got the advantage of experience and I’m still getting used to the perks of Queen-hood. That’s fine though, because I haven’t really been talking to gloat or to psych myself up or even to embarrass you in front of your – excuse me – _my_ troops. I’m _really_ glad I got the opportunity to do that, but it wasn’t the point. Now, what _was_ the point?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “The point, the point, the poi–”

Mab made an unearthly noise, something between a scream and a grunt that damn near broke my eardrums, and the noise intensified half a second later which had my eyes watering and my stomach queasy. The fact that the air was filled with the scent of coppery blood and burning flesh didn’t help. “You’re not the only one who keeps her promises, bitch.” Margaret LeFay snarled, her hand still wrapped around the sharpened bit of iron she’d driven all the way through Mab's back until it poked out of the front of her dress, cold blue flames licking out around it. Its twin did the same high up on Mab's chest, driven in by Charity Carpenter. Half her face was covered in blood and while I hoped it wasn't, I thought it was probably her own. It was hard to tell from the way her hair was matted to her head with it. Her face was full of grim determination, and while she said nothing her sense of vindication was as clear as my mother's.

Molly snapped her fingers. “ _That_ was the point. I just needed to distract you long enough for my colleagues to get into position.” She cleared her throat. “Mab. You have neglected and abused your subjects. You have become a tyrant, ruling with fear and prejudice. You have taken away so much from so many and I cannot allow it to continue. For this, I sentence you to death.”

Mab's voice had a rough edge to it but was otherwise surprisingly normal for someone with fire coming out of wounds in her body. “Have I fallen so far that you think two mortals with shards of the Bane are enough to lay me low? Pain only serves to strengthen my resolve. I am Mab of Winter, Queen of Air and Darkness. Mortals and fae alike have feared me since long before your ancestors formed their Holy Roman Empire, and rightly so. It will take more than cold iron to bring me down.”

“Aunt Titania took a bit more effort too.” I’d reached a point where I wasn’t even surprised when fairies started randomly appearing out of thin air. My first thought upon seeing Sarissa standing on the edge of the clearing, stalking toward her mother was a casual, 'oh, when did she get here?’. She wore a sparkling golden gown with a crown to match, glowing like the morning sun and flowers blooming beneath her bare feet. “Didn’t she, Sir Fix?”

Sarissa looked radiant, transformed by her new power and apparent success. Fix just looked different, as though he’d aged a decade since I’d last seen him. He had a haunted look to his eyes that wasn’t diminished by the angry set of his jaw or his scowl. The fact that he was head to toe covered in blood and viscera didn’t hurt the look either. “Yes. She did.”

“But my Knight and I have never shied away from hard work.” She simpered. “And here we are.”

“What have you done?” Mab demanded, and for the first time since we got to the island, I could feel her fear. She knew. She had to know. Even I could feel the difference in power between a Lady and a high Queen of Summer. But she hadn’t planned for this. Mab hadn’t been surprised by anything we’d done, not completely. But her daughter, Queen of Light and Life, was a total shock to her, along with the implications. “What have you done, child?”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Sarissa’s eyes flashed a brilliant green. “Titania is dead. I’d offer you my condolences, mother, but I'm not sorry in the slightest. It was past time for her to go, and high time for a new Queen to take her throne.”

Snow fell heavily around us, big thick flakes in a swirling wind. To this day my definition of the word distraught will forever be the image of Mab in that moment. So many emotions flashed across her face, her lips twitching, eyes widening and contracting. Despite everything, I still felt bad for her. “What has Summer done to you? You never craved power. You were never short-sighted. Maeve's schemes I expected, but you…I never would have expected you to be so foolish.”

“You never knew either of us well enough to know what to expect!” Queen Sarissa’s voice held the shrill cry of eagles and the rush of waves crashing against sand, dangerous and outraged. “I’ve spent a lifetime allowing you to shape us, manipulate and use us, only to watch you discard Maeve like she was nothing once she was no longer useful to you. Today, I did exactly what you raised me to do – whatever was necessary to achieve my goals. Queen Molly is right. It’s time for the old ways to be put aside, and for change to come to the Courts of Faerie. Titania would not listen to reason and I had her killed. It was regrettable but necessary. But I wanted to tell you personally before you meet the same fate, on the off chance that somewhere there's still a person inside of you. I wanted you to know what this pain feels like. An eye for an eye, a sister for a sister, it’s only fair in the interest of balance, right?”

Mab made a noise that might have been a grunt of pain or of understanding. “And now that you have delivered your message, I assume you'll eliminate me so that this traitor can sit my throne?”

Sarissa’s lips turned up in a way that seemed far too savage for her gentle, delicate features, a reminder that while she may be Queen of Summer, she had been born and raised to Winter. “Heavens no. If I raised my hand against you, Winter would be required to retaliate and then we'd have an all-out war, which would defeat the entire purpose of our collaboration. Luckily, you've done such a thorough job of pissing off every single ally you might have otherwise had, I just have to sit back and watch while Molly gives the order.” The smile gained more teeth, and the ground started to smoke beneath her feet. “Appropriate, isn't it? You've manipulated them both to do your bidding, used them like they were your pawns and now, pawn takes Queen.”

“Give your orders then, child.” Mab barked at Molly. “If you think your champion can stand up to me, send him. It’s been some time since I’ve had the opportunity to claim the life of a wizard and the victory will be sweet.”

Molly turned to look at me, and I felt a weight settle in my chest. Once the command left her lips, I’d be bound by it. It could only end with the death of a Queen, either Mab or her, depending on my success and I couldn’t turn from that path. Not to mention that I wasn’t sure whether or not I still answered to both of them. For all I knew, Mab could turn around and order me to kill Molly and the conflicting demands might very well drive me insane.

It would also change her, us. I’d followed her commands before on missions (and sometimes after missions) but she always tried to keep it to a minimum and it was always small stuff. Duck. Stop. Run. Follow me. She was my commanding officer, my boss, when we were on missions and I understood that. While she’d technically been my boss all the time outside of missions, she’d never acted on it. This would be different – her first command, from Queen to Knight. Her first demand for blood at my hands. It wasn’t something Molly, my apprentice, my wife, my friend, would ask. It would be a requirement from my Queen. I wanted Mab dead. I wanted my family safe. I would do what I had to. But I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive her for taking away my choice. I watched her brilliant blue eyes, waiting for her to speak the words that would set us on our new path into a dangerous unknown future.

“No.” She said softly, taking one of my hands. I blinked and her eyes searched my own. “No, I won’t be a tyrant. Harry, I can’t make you do this. I can't even ask you to. It has to be your choice.”

I smiled. She knew me too well. “There’s no choice to be made, Molls. She sealed her fate the second she tried to take you from me.” Heedless of the dire circumstances we were in, or the audience gathered around us, I kissed her for all I was worth. She tasted of power and fury still, but she met me with all of the passion and love she had in her. It was just a kiss between a man and his wife, but it was also more. My Queen acknowledged me, her Champion, as she sent me off to battle, claiming me as her own in front of those assembled.

“How touching,” Mab commented. “Now make your stand wizard. There is business yet to attend to while it is still All Hallows Eve. If I am to vanquish you let it be in as fair a fight as possible, so that none may sully the reward of my victory by claiming it was through trickery. Come, I will allow you the first strike that we may get this over with.”

I squeezed Molly’s hand just once then let it go, squaring my shoulders to face off with the villainess who inspired all other villainesses throughout history. She didn’t call power to her so much as it just radiated off of her, shimmering in the air like heat off of asphalt in the middle of summer. It was intimidating, to say the least. I flexed my knuckles, which was a mistake since they were still punishing me for breaking them. “What do you hope to do, Dresden? Your magic will not work. Even with cold iron in me, you are not my equal. I can easily crush you.”

I drew in my power, watching her silently. This was Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness. She’d been around for thousands of years. She was a primal force of nature, defender of the Outer Gates. I was comparatively nothing, no one, beside her. Who was I to stand against her? I planted my feet firmly. “You have boasted often enough of your prowess,” She sneered. “But inside you know that you are weak, too weak for this task.” I couldn't hear what she said, but I heard my mother's voice and suddenly there was a brief flash of light before Margaret went flying backward, crashing into a tree and crumpling to the ground. Distantly I worried, my heart clenching tight, afraid that I might have just lost my mom for the second time. But I couldn't afford to feel any of that, so I locked it away.

“You could not save Molly from my fetches without the interference of Summer when she was yet a child.” I didn’t have the right to take a life, even hers. “You could not protect her from your own White Council.” I didn't have the power to kill a Queen even if I wanted to. “You could not protect her any more than you protected your lover when you assaulted the Red King.” I didn't want any more blood on my hands. I could feel them dripping at her mention of Susan and I wasn’t sure if the sudden charnel reek was due to a shift in the wind or if it was just another phantom from my memories. “You could not even follow my command and kill my daughter on your own. She would have killed you without my intervention.” My back was to the ropes. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to do this. “You were not man enough to pull the trigger that night either, were you? Not on Maeve. Not on me.” I had to do it. I had to try. I just didn’t want to deal with the aftermath.

“Take your shot, wizard. I grow weary of waiting. Once I kill you both, I have business to attend to – she will require training but I think in time Maggie will make an excellent Winter Lady.”

The world filled with a high-pitched whine, like the tuning violins noise you hear before passing out, but instead of sinking into the blackness of unconsciousness, everything turned red, then white. My grip tightened around the hilt of the sword in my hand and my chest burned with purpose, washing away the doubt and uncertainty. Who was I to stand against her? I lifted the sword, white light dancing up and down its blade. I was the guy she tried to break. Father of the children she’d threatened. Husband to a woman she’d nearly driven mad. The man whose life she’d almost destroyed.

“Go on, kill me if you can, mortal ape!” I gritted my teeth, drawing on my pain, my anger, and most of all, my love. Love for my wife, for my kids, for my family and friends who despite the risk were still here by my side. Love for the life I had. The blade was wreathed in brilliant blue flames that licked all the way up my right arm as I pointed the tip at the center of her chest. And I unleashed it.

Who was I to stand against her? The one man she never should have fucked with.

I screamed, deep and primal, as the power burst out of me, channeled through the sword of love. I burned with it, staring down my target as the energy tore through her like a wrecking ball through damp tissue paper. To say it ripped a hole in her chest is technically accurate, but by the time I exhausted myself, there was really more hole than chest left. The ground, scorched in a line for several yards behind her, was visible through Mab as she fell to her knees. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she went down, clutching at her wound in confusion. “Checkmate.” I snarled, lowering the sword and leaning on it. As the last bits of energy left me, I lost feeling in almost my everything, freezing cold. Oops. Guess I poured a little too much soulfire into it.

Silence echoed across the hilltop, everyone waiting with bated breath. The old Queen was doubled over, but every few seconds her body twitched or shook and she was making strange noises. I was so exhausted I was having trouble making my eyes focus, but I forced myself to move closer, ready to finish her off if needed. It took me a minute to realize that the strange noise was her attempt to laugh, despite the damage. She rolled her head to look up at me, blood bubbling out to drip down her black lips, yet still, she smiled. “Come. Here. Knight.” The gurgling croak she used to speak still features prominently in my nightmares. It was a bad idea, and later I wouldn't be able to tell you why I did it, but I knelt down in front of her, following one last command. I drew one of my daggers, ready to finish the job, when several things happened at once.

The first is that Mab pulled me even closer, so she could whisper to me.

The second is that my dagger's blade bit deep into her throat even as she pulled me to her, blood gushing over us both like we were in some B-horror flick.

The third is I looked directly into Mab's eyes and I felt the pull of the soulgaze a half-second too late to look away.

“ _Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more. Till the clouds roll forever from the sky. Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand. Keep me safe till the storm passes by.”_ There was a voice, soft and beautiful, singing in the dark and gentle fingers brushed through my hair. I blinked my eyes open and then blinked a few more times trying to take in my surroundings. We were in the cottage, still on Demonreach and I was curled up on the floor under a blanket, my head resting on someone's lap.

“Charity?” I guessed, sitting up and planning to rub my eyes until I caught sight of my blood-stained hands and thought better of it.

“Harry,” She confirmed quietly. Her head was bandaged but she looked otherwise unharmed. “How are you feeling?”

I was feeling shaky, exhausted and nauseous. “Nothing a hot shower and a ten-year nap can't cure.” I stretched, and then the realization that I'd just been passed out on my mother-in-law’s lap while she sang hymns and stroked my hair hit me and I decided that was too weird for my fragile brain to process. “Uh, wha-what happened?”

“We won.” My mother said, her voice hard. She was leaning in the doorway watching us. “The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen.”

“You over-extended yourself fighting her,” Charity chided. “We were worried she did something to you when you finished her off, but Elaine confirmed you would be okay with rest. So we dragged you here.”

“Sorry. You didn’t need to…you could have just left me alone.”

“It’s been a long day.” Charity sighed. “I needed something to keep me occupied. I was looking after you for my own comfort.” Something made me think she wasn’t being entirely honest. My throat felt raw, like I’d been screaming. My cheeks were damp with what I assumed were tears. Oh, and any time I tried to think of my soulgaze with Mab my heart started beating so fast I couldn't hear anything over the sound of it, so I was pretty sure I'd had a bad reaction and that probably had something to do with Charity playing mom to me.

But that didn't make any sense either, because if I was in such a state that Charity felt the need to comfort me, why wasn’t my wife the one doing it? “Where’s Molly? Is she alright?” The two women shared a look. “Don't do that. Come on. Tell me what the hell happened to my wife. Why isn't she here?”

Charity set her jaw, suddenly transfixed by a spot of nothing on the far wall, and my mom frowned at her before looking back at me. “Why don’t you come take a walk with me, Harry?”

My blood ran cold. “Uh, no, I’m fine right here thanks. Just tell me what happened.”

“Let me rephrase. Come take a walk with me, son. Now.” I wobbled when I got to my feet, but mom grabbed my arm, supporting me, and together we walked out of the cottage. I nearly tripped on the three feet of snow that blanketed the entire hilltop, but there was a path trampled down heading toward the dock and we followed it. “Old Mab really got me good. I conked my head on that tree and barely came to in time to see you slit her throat. Ya done good, kid.”

“I did what I came to do and I did it well. I'm not sure that I did good.” I flexed my knuckles and flakes of dried blood cracked off. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out, but it looked like it was early evening, the sky turning purple in the last light of day. A few hours at least. “Stop trying to distract me. What happened to Molly?”

“There was a backlash when the old bitch finally kicked the bucket, a rush of power and energy that knocked us off our feet. Everyone except Molly. The magic rose up like –”

“Like a giant serpent, and it plunged itself straight into her chest. Yeah, I was there the last time that happened. What next?”

“You were on the ground, whimpering, and she tried to go to you but when the power hit her it was like she was frozen in place. Her eyes went white, all the way through and it started snowing so hard you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. She started barking out orders, sending the Winter troops back, directing the rest of us. She didn’t look…well, she didn’t look okay, that’s for damn sure. She paced around for a couple of minutes, muttering to herself and occasionally issuing commands, most of which made no sense. One second she looked normal, the next she looked totally alien and then she was herself again, back and forth. Sarissa spoke with her and we had a full blizzard on our hands for a while, but eventually, I think she calmed down.”

I grunted, not allowing myself to feel anything about that information yet. “Alicia?”

“Still human. Molly refused to give up the power. She insisted that she was the Queen and she didn’t want or need a Lady. I think that’s what she was struggling with the most – trying to hold two mantles that are in clear conflict.”

I swore. “I told her that would happen. I told her! It’s too much, both of them at the same time. Damnit. What happened to her? Is she okay?” If I had to ask one more time I was going to snap.

“I wish I knew. After their conversation, when she’d gotten some semblance of a grip on herself, Molly and Sarissa came to tell us that they’d been summoned by the Mothers. She told us she'd come back for you as soon as she could.”

Of course the Mothers would want to speak with them. I just hoped they would see the reasoning behind Molly and Sarissa’s actions rather than declaring them traitors. They'd hardly have to even think about doing it to kill the young women where they stood if they were so inclined. I said what my mother hadn't. “They've been gone for hours.”

“Aye.” She solemnly agreed. “Now I’m going to tell you the same thing I’ve been telling Charity – Lord knows, time works differently in the Nevernever. For all we know, they've only been gone a few minutes by their count. So don't get to thinking we won the battle but lost the war just yet.” She sounded confident, but she couldn't hide the worry in her own eyes. “I hope you don't mind, I sent your brother and the rest of your little militia back to Chicago. This island is the definition of harrowing and no one wanted to be here. They wouldn't have left without me insisting, but I thought you wouldn't want them to stay any longer than necessary just to watch you recover from her spell.”

I grunted my agreement. “Mostly right. But it wasn't a spell.” I glanced over at my mother. “I made the mistake of catching her eyes.”

“And?”

“And we soulgazed.” I would have killed for a beer at that moment. Something to take the edge off the panic in my chest.

Mom stopped walking to gape at me. “Sidhe don't have souls.”

“She wasn’t always Sidhe.” I started to think back on what I’d seen, and everything in me shivered, recoiling at the thought. I shook my head. “Maybe it was the iron or the soulfire I used, or maybe she just wasn’t as monstrous as we thought.”

“Don’t let your guilty conscience muddle your mind, kid.” My mom said. “She was the stuff monsters are made of. You did the right thing.”

We’d reached the end of the path and I turned to look at her fully. “I did exactly what she wanted me to do. I’ve danced on her string from the first time I crossed paths with her, maybe even before that, and all of this, the rebellion and the secret plots…” I blinked and I saw Mab's bloody smile on the inside of my eyelids, burned forever into my memory. I heard her voice, rasping and awful but somehow still relieved as she whispered to me. “‘Thank you’,” I repeated out loud. “I had a blade to her throat and she said ‘thank you’ as I killed her.”

“You _did_ remove most of her torso with soulfire. Even fairy Queens have limits to their pain tolerance, I'm sure. Killing her quickly was a mercy. One she wouldn't have shown you by the way.”

“Winter shows no mercy,” I said absently. How could I explain? There weren't words for the things I’d seen in her, the complexities of Mab's soul. It had been like staring into the depths of the ocean, the ever-changing waves, and currents, mesmerizing, dark and powerful, and only realizing too late that she was drowning me. If I'd thought about it, I would have expected Mab's soul to be cold and relentless, full of ice and terrifying power, like she'd been when I'd looked at her with my Sight. And in part, it had been. But it had also been a vast, webbed expanse, echoing with indescribable pain, the crushing weight of burden and responsibility, and at the center…I have trouble saying or even thinking that the woman at the center of that web was Mab.

I wish I'd known her Name, who she really was once upon a time as the stories say. I don't know why it mattered, but standing in the snow, covered in her dried blood, it did. Because she hadn’t been cold and terrible despite her surroundings. She'd just been worn-down, run-out and tired. If you combined every low point of my entire life into one single moment I still don't think I’d look that world-weary. She didn't look like a Queen, with or without the capital letter. She looked like a woman at the end of her rope, naked and vulnerable, entombed in ice, mournful and exhausted. And I knew with perfect clarity that this is why I was here, the last few months, hell, maybe years of my life had lead me back to Demonreach, back to the hilltop where she’d lost her daughters, on the one day a year where everything in this realm became mortal. She had said it, hadn’t she? She’d picked me because I was known for taking impossible tasks and making them simply improbable. One mortal man killing a Queen of Faerie, even with assistance? I’d been confident it was impossible all the way up until the moment her blood spilled freely over my blade.

I’d said it before. The retirement options from Winter boiled down to urn or casket. Her mantle wouldn't allow her to voluntarily quit, so she had orchestrated events to cause a forced retirement. Suicide by proxy on an epic scale. Hells bells.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter why,” I said aloud, talking to myself just as much as my mom. “What's done is done. I did what I had to do.”

“Damn right.” She put one hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “And as soon as Molly gets back, you can put all this stress behind you and get your lives back on track.”

“Right. I’m sure it’ll be that simple. No way our lives are going to be more complicated now that she’s the new Queen.” I sighed and started back toward the cottage to settle down and wait but mom stopped me.

“Let’s walk a little more,” she said to my questioning look. “Charity’s been singing those hymns of hers for hours now, and I’ve yet to see her stiff-upper-lip so much as wobble. Something tells me she might prefer a few minutes to herself so she can be a human and worry about her kid in peace.”

“I thought you said we didn't need to worry,” I said wryly.

“I said you shouldn't assume the worst. I'm not fool enough to tell another mother not to worry about her child or a husband not to worry about his wife, and I respect you both too much to lie and say there's nothing to worry about. She’s probably fine, but of course you're worried, we all are.”

So we meandered along Demonreach's shore. Every minute that passed without my connection to the island letting me know Molly had returned increased the quiet panic in my chest. I tried not to let it show but I'm sure she knew since she started telling me stories about when she was a kid, obviously trying to distract me. It didn't work very well, but it at least gave me something to focus on other than my fear. The sky grew steadily darker and I had to use my (or I guess her/our?) amulet to conjure enough light for mom to see where she was going on our way back to the cottage. If Charity's eyes were red-rimmed and her face was blotchier than it had been when we left, I didn't say anything. I was too tired to let myself process any emotion, and I was pretty sure if I did I would have a complete breakdown and wouldn’t recover until Molly was safely in my arms again. That is _if_ she was ever…no. Nope. Couldn’t even finish that thought. That road led to madness.

I built a fire when it became apparent that only one of the three of us was impervious to the cold and even for the end of October on a spooky island in the middle of Lake Michigan, it was an unusually chilly night. After rummaging through the stores I kept, holdovers from when I was living on the island, and digging through her pack Charity busied herself with making dinner. Neither woman cared that I wasn’t hungry and two pointed looks of disapproval were more than I could resist, so I choked down soup that tasted like salty nothing and a scoop of beans that tasted like mushed cardboard. Still, we waited.

It was somewhere around 10:00 when I caught Charity’s head nodding for the third time and I suggested perhaps it was time we try to get some rest. An argument ensued over who was going to take first watch and why it was going to be me regardless of what either one of them thought. Voices were raised and I was steadily losing what little grip I had left on my temper and about to shout things I would definitely have regretted at either my mom or Molly’s when I felt the presence of another sentient being appear on the island, and half a second later heard the tell-tale slap of feet running toward the cottage.


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn't Molly. I knew that immediately. Demonreach was familiar with her and I would have recognized her as soon as she hit the ground. But Demonreach was just on alert, not trying to stop them, and I didn't want to risk using the shreds of energy left to me readying my magic if I didn't need to. If the approacher meant us harm I’d just have to call on Winter and hope that was effective. The only person I was really concerned about coming to harm us was Mother Winter and she wasn't likely to come running. When the blur of dark hair and gangly limbs came hurtling through the door and skidded to a halt, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or scream. Maggie stood still, staring at me for a long moment with wide eyes. I knew how I must look, covered in dirt, blood and ichor, bruised and scraped, bone-weary, and absolutely furious that she'd left the safety of Michael's to come here.

Almost as furious as I was (inwardly) happy to see her. My voice rumbled, solemn as the grave, when I said, “It's past your bedtime.”

The fear left her face and in its place came chagrin. “It's not a school night.” She protested feebly. “And I was hoping for a bedtime story.”

Bedtime stories were another thing she was way too cool and mature for now that she’d started middle school, but I played along. “And Michael wouldn’t read you one?”

She quirked her lips into a crooked frown. “I’m sure he would have. But he just doesn’t do the voices like you do.”

I laughed despite myself and when I held out my arms she came running for a hug. I held her close and decided that I wasn’t going to ever let her go again. “As soon as we get home you’re grounded.” I murmured, my chin resting on the top of her head.

“Yeah, I figured. But it's worth it to know that you’re alright.”

My eyes started watering, and all of the happy, proud dad feelings were starting to melt the wall of ice I’d built around my emotions. Each breath I drew required a little more effort, my lungs fighting to work over the lead weight in my chest. Fortunately, Charity didn’t appear to have the same issue. “Margaret Angelica, do you know how dangerous this place is? Didn’t your parents specifically tell you to stay at the house? And your grandfather is going to be worried sick about you disappearing in the middle of the night! Just because you can go anywhere you want doesn't mean you should. I swear Molly might as well be your mother for all the lack of common sense you both show in –” She broke off with a sob and Maggie reluctantly let me go to hug Charity in turn.

“I left a note for Papa, but I know. I’m sorry.” She sounded contrite. Charity continued to lecture her and Maggie listened, nodding when appropriate, apologizing, promising not to do it again. This wasn’t her first rodeo and she knew how to weather the storm of Charity’s ire as well as any of her children.

“I can take her home if you want.” Mom said quietly. “I’ll keep an eye on her until you can both come back.”

It was the best idea. We had no way of knowing when (or if) Molly would be back, or the state she’d be in when she got here. Moreover, I’d killed a Queen of Winter. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that Mother Winter wanted vengeance for the act. And discounting all of that, Demonreach was a prison for all the worst supernatural baddies around with a habit of driving any mortals who stepped foot on it completely bonkers. It was not a good place for an eleven-year-old girl. But I found myself shaking my head anyway. “Nah, she’ll just try to come back here. Might as well let her wait and worry with us instead of doing it alone.”

So we settled in and kept waiting. Eventually, I was able to persuade everyone to let me take first watch. I sat with my back against one wall, angled to keep an eye on the door. Maggie sat on my lap, her legs outstretched alongside mine and her head on my chest while we talked. I kept one arm around her and told her what had happened. I spared her the gorier details, but she got the idea. “So what happens now? Once mom's done her meeting, do we just go back home? Or are we going to go live in the castle?”

I exhaled hard. “We’re definitely not all going to go live in Arctis Tor, I can tell you that much. If I never have to go back there I’ll be perfectly happy. But I don’t know, kiddo. Mom had a lot of ideas about what she wanted to do once we got here, but we aren’t sure how many are actually possible. And she’s got a lot of important responsibilities now. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Hmm. Do you think she’s in trouble? For everything?”

I hesitated, not sure how honest I wanted to be. “Maybe.” I finally answered. “Even Queens have bosses, and I think her new bosses aren’t going to be too happy about the change in management, especially since she wants to make so many other changes.”

“Mother Summer and Mother Winter?” I nodded. “They might not be happy, but they can’t do too much about it, right? There always has to be a Queen, to keep us safe, and they aren’t going to want just anyone to be Queen. So they won’t hurt mom, right?”

It was a more convincing argument than any my racing, manic mind had come up with. “Its always hard to predict what fairies will or won’t do, but you’re probably right.”

“And the Summer Queen is there. She’ll keep her safe.”

I gave a short laugh. “The Summer Queen is going to be in just as much trouble as Molly. And Summer is supposed to counter everything we do. They’re not our allies. I’m not sure she’ll be much help.”

“Of course she will. They’re friends. Miss Lea said so.”

“I guess 'miss’ is better than 'auntie’,” I muttered to myself. “And since when do you talk with the Leanansidhe?”

“I know, she's dangerous, I have to be careful.” I couldn't see her face, but the eye roll was clear in her tone. “But I've been careful. I hoped she’d be able to help me find you, but she was just as useless as everyone else.”

“Please don’t tell me that you summoned her too?”

“Dad, how dumb do you think I am?” She shook her head. “No. She just kinda showed up a few times while you were gone. She said she was 'honor-bound' to ensure my well-being. I didn’t promise her anything or thank her for anything or eat or drink anything she gave me.”

“Did she _try_ to get you to eat or drink anything?” I asked darkly. I didn’t have Molly’s cavalier attitude about Lea telling Mab everything she knew but as long as everything worked out, I was willing to let it slide. If she’d been trying to lure my daughter into Faerie or harm her in any way, I was going to have some very strong words with her – possibly starting with _fuego_.

“Only once. We went to the movies and she tried to give me popcorn and soda. It didn’t look weird, but I didn’t take the chance. Did you know Miss Lea writes movies?”

I laughed softly to myself. “Yeah. Yeah, I did know that. That’s one of her special talents, inspiring people to write stories and music and plays. And movies, now. Did she take you to see her new movie?” She nodded. “And what did you think of it?”

“It was awesome. Especially the end. Have you seen it?”

“Nah, but she told me about it.” I stroked her hair. “It's a good ending.”

“The best.” Maggie agreed. We talked a little more about what she'd been up to while we were kidnapped. She'd been busy, campaigning to rescue us as much as she could. I told her she was double grounded when she confessed to skipping school a few times to spend the day doing research with Bonnie, but her grades were still good so I didn't give her too much grief. We talked about her magic, and I explained what Molly had told me about her power being strongly tied to her emotions, and she was very excited to test the theory. I had to rein her in and let her know that even if I hadn’t been too worn out to do any magic of my own, we still weren’t going out on nightmare island in the dead of night when she should already be asleep to start practicing her spells.

In the end, I did end up telling her stories, all about learning magical theory and practicing under Ebenezer and about Molly when she was still my apprentice, learning the basics too. I kept telling those stories long after she fell asleep on me, talking to the small glow of our fire. By the time my eyes were getting heavy, Mouse was the only one awake. He'd followed Maggie in and promptly set himself up in the doorway, making it clear that nothing else was coming through without his express permission. I thought about waking up my mom to take the next watch, but I couldn't bring myself to move and disturb her sleep as well as Maggie’s, so instead, I just trusted to the shaggy, vaguely dog-shaped behemoth to guard us and to warn me if anyone or anything approached. It wasn't the most comfortable position I’d ever fallen asleep in, but it also wasn’t the worst. The weight of Maggie against me, knowing that at least for now she was safe and sound and in my protection, even if I’d failed her, even if she was the only one I could protect, at least I had her, that knowledge might have helped.

I woke to the sound of rustling fabric and came face to face with a whole bunch of skirts and crinoline. “Harry?” My sleep-blurred vision traced slowly up the length of the dress, over layers of fabric in every shade of blue and white, sparkling in the low light from the dying fire, over a delicate hand, pressed to the front where the pattern of her skirts emphasized more than concealed the fact that she was heavy with our child, over the exposed skin of her breasts swelling out of her bodice, her bare shoulders, her pale complexion a beautiful contrast with the dark lines of ink winding their way across her body, over her lips, pink and plump and begging to be kissed, until finally, I made it to her eyes – the perfect blue of summer skies, warm and bright, despite the cold.

“Molls.” I breathed, my voice rough. “You really here or is this wishful thinking?”

“A Knight should recognize his Queen when he sees her, Sir Dresden.” Her voice was too tender for me to take her seriously and when I smiled she mirrored it. “I'm really here and no offense to Alfred but I really wish I wasn’t, so if you don't mind, can we please go home now?”’

“That’s the best idea you've ever had.” It didn't take long to get our little group up and ready to go. Maggie made enough noise upon seeing Molly to wake up anything in a hundred-mile radius, scrambling off of me to embrace her. Charity was almost as quick, hugging her daughter so tightly I worried I might need to pry her off to get my own chance. Standing hurt, and I still felt weak and drained and unsteady on my feet, but none of that mattered. We were alive, and while the dawn hadn't broken, it wasn't too far off judging by the color of the sky. Charity and Maggie both stood aside and I beamed down at the love of my life, cupping her face in both hands to pull her lips toward me and we shared a kiss for the ages. “I love you.”

I must have said it to her a thousand times before, but it felt like the first time. Those three words held the whole history of our lives, all of the twists and turns, the lows and highs, the bumps and boons and close calls, every good and bad decision I’d ever made, a complicated, bewildering, extraordinary path that had led us into certain death and carried us through to the other side. And when she told me she loved me too with watery eyes, I could hear the same story in her words.

When I pulled away to look at her, Molly looked about as beat as I felt. There were bags under her eyes that hadn't been there that morning, and she was swaying on her feet. But under the exhaustion, she was radiantly happy. I took hold of her hand and didn't let go the entire way down to the dock, where a ship waited for us. I never saw anyone at the wheel either when we boarded or when we disembarked, but Molly assured me she had people to take care of it. We all went below deck and I sat on a bench seat with Maggie on one side of me and Molly on the other. My daughter, determining that everything was okay and we were going home, promptly fell back to sleep on my shoulder as soon as we were settled. Molly seemed like she wanted nothing more than to do the same, but mom asked the question that was on all of our minds. “So? What happened?”

“We won,” Molly said in grim solemnity. “I'm Winter Queen. We're all still here, safe and sound.”

“Can we afford to have you here?” I asked, “Not that I'm not happy to see you, its just, the Gates?”

“It's fine.” She replied with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Sarissa volunteered.”

There was a beat of silence. “Uh. Summer Queen Sarissa is defending the Gates? Can Summer do that?”

“They can now.” She wiped one hand over her face. “It's weird. I thought it would be so much harder to work with her now that we're both high Queens, but it's actually easier to work with her than it is to work against her. I wonder if it's just that Mab and Titania hated each other? At any rate, as of today, there is _a_ Sidhe Court, one. No more pointless antagonism back and forth when what we all want is to defend the Gates. We've both invested a lot of energy to make sure that's possible but it wasn't so difficult. We hardly even got objections from the rest of the fae.”

On the bench across from us, Margaret caught my eye and smiled. “Sounds like your ridiculous plan worked.”

“It might just be a coincidence. They were getting along well enough when they were both still Ladies.” I couldn't quite hide my smirk and Molly turned suspicious eyes on me.

“What ridiculous plan is she talking about, Harry?”

“Ah, well. So. I had this idea. It's Vadderung's fault, really. You remember, at Christmas, he told me the story of how Odin became Santa?” She made an 'mmhmm' of agreement that was even warier than her look. “Right so, after that, I got to thinking about the things humans believe, especially kids. There’s a signed copy of the Grimms' fairy tales, the originals, in Arctis Tor dedicated to Mab. She worked with them to have those stories spread. And why? Because belief is power for things from the Nevernever, including Sidhe, and no one believes like kids do. So for a long time, children were reading these stories and believing that the fae were bad news and with that belief, her power and the power of all things dark and spooky in fairyland grew.”

“Until Disney came along and ruined it.” Molly nodded. “She ranted about that more than once.”

“Exactly. Kids don’t read dark German folklore anymore. They watch TV and movies. And it was somewhere around the billionth time that I was listening to Maggie sing _Let it Go_ along with the princess on TV that I started thinking that movies must have just as much of an effect on human beliefs, especially those of children, as the old stories. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have cared about Disney.”

“Huh. I guess I just always assumed she was pissed because people weren’t believing in the old ways so our power wasn’t what it once was. But you’re suggesting…what, that Disney changing the stories might change the reality?”

“Not all at once, but yeah, over time. And not just Disney. Books, and movies, and shows, cartoons, comics, all of it. What we believe, what _mortals_ believe, is powerful. And no one believes like children do, before the world gets to them and tells them to be cynical and skeptical of everything. So there I was, looking at this cartoon queen of ice and snow on our tv, knowing that millions of kids have been watching it and singing along and –”

“I love you, but if you try to tell me that you think I'm turning into a cartoon character, I will not be held accountable for my actions.”

I smiled. “No, I think you might have been the inspiration in that case, not the other way around. It just got me thinking, if someone _did_ want to influence the Courts, say, encourage comradery between Winter and Summer, or tweak the nature of our mantles so it’s easier to bear them, changing what people believe is the way to do it, starting with kids.”

“…So, just so I have this straight, your plan was to indoctrinate children with fae propaganda in the hopes that enough kids would believe your lies, which would, in turn, make your life easier?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Well, it sounds bad when you say it like _that_.” I protested. “I prefer to think of it as offering quality children’s entertainment that just so happens to help us out.”

“Don't you remember Lea telling us he had a plan they were working on?” Mom asked, amused. “She’s been pulling strings to get the movie made and released as soon as possible.”

“The Summer Princess and the Winter Princess are forced to go on an adventure together, and at first they don’t get along, but eventually they realize they aren’t that different and form an unlikely friendship. And along the way, they learn valuable lessons, like how they don’t have to let their emotions rule them even when they’re really mad or scared, or how instead of fighting they should be united against their common enemy – a faceless dark army that threatens to destroy everything, but is no match for the princesses, especially when they work together.” I felt increasingly more embarrassed as I went on, summarizing the plot. “I didn’t know about your plans when I made my deal with Lea. I thought it was a long shot anyway.”

“Mab would have killed you for giving up our secrets.” Molly smacked my leg. “You’re lucky you’re cute or I might listen to my mantle and do the same.”

“She knew. Just like she knew what we had planned for tonight. And how it would end.”

Molly snuggled closer against me. “You figured that out, huh?”

“That she orchestrated all of this? Yeah. It was too easy. We’d never have survived if she hadn’t meant us to. Plus, we soulgazed there at the end. Didn't leave much room for doubt.”

“Jesus. No wonder you lost it.” She reached up to touch my face. “Are you...are you okay now?”

“You’re alive and in one piece. I’m alive and in one piece. Beyond that, I’m too tired to be anything else. Ask me in the morning.” I kissed the bit of her flesh where her thumb joined the rest of her hand for the simple fact that it was closest and I felt an overwhelming need to have my lips against her body in any way I could. “Are _you_ okay?”

She exhaled hard. “Uh. Yyyyyyessss? I think so.”

“You certainly seem better than you did earlier.” Charity chimed in. She'd been so quiet I thought she’d fallen asleep. “More…”

“Balanced?” Molly asked with a wry smile.

“Human.” The word hung in the air for a few heartbeats before Molly finally breathed a small laugh.

“That too. I'm not.” She hastened to add. “Now more than ever. But I feel more human than I have in years. Or at least more in control. It’s good to be Queen.” The last was said with just enough humor to keep me from shivering. Charity frowned, obviously not thrilled with her daughter’s excitement to rule all of Faerie, but she didn't speak against it.

Most of the ride back, Molly was asleep on one shoulder and Maggie on the other. I could think of worse ways to cross Lake Michigan. As exhausted as I was, I couldn’t relax enough to join them. I’m sure it was paranoia but I felt like if I closed my eyes, if I stopped watching them both for even a second, I might lose them again. So I kept my vigil. It was, blissfully, an uneventful trip back to Chicago. We piled into our car and I managed to not fall asleep at the wheel long enough to get us home. “We should let everyone know what happened,” I remarked, pulling onto our street. The motionless lump of blonde hair and blue and white fabric in the passenger seat beside me that claimed to be Queen of Winter groaned. “I know. But they’ll be worried.”

“I will handle making the calls and letting everyone know that you are both home, and doing well, and that if anyone calls, stops by or otherwise bothers you for at least a day I will make sure they regret it.” I was pretty sure that Charity meant it.

I know for a fact that mom meant it when she added, “And I’ll help.” I wasn’t sure if she meant with the phone calls or with making people regret bothering us, and I decided I didn’t want to know. Margaret ended up staying at the Carpenters' for the night either way (which made sense, given that they had spare beds and all we had was a couch in the living room) and my girls and I went home together.

Maggie zombie-shuffled her way into the house, waited patiently for a goodnight kiss and hug from both of us, and as soon as that was done she disappeared into her room. I liked that plan. I strongly considered sleeping on the couch myself at the prospect of climbing stairs, but that had 100% less Molly than I was comfortable with so I dragged myself up them after her. I stepped in the shower long enough to rinse the majority of my accumulated filth from my body and to let the hot water ease my muscles into basic functionality. They were still protesting any kind of use, but at least they did it instead of being stiff and useless. Even as quick as I was, I expected Molly to be passed out by the time I got out. Instead, I found her naked as the day she was born, long blonde hair flowing freely around her as she sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed.

“You didn’t need to wait up for me,” I said, toweling my hair dry.

“I made you a promise.” A smile played at her lips. “Whatever you want. All night. All yours.”

I laughed, real honest laughter, and it felt almost as good as the shower had. “I’ll take a rain check on that.”

“That’s not how promises work. Not with me. You know that.” She smirked, and her entire face lit up with it, even her tired eyes. “And you better hurry up, because the night’s almost up, birthday boy.”

God, she was stunning. Jaw-droppingly, amazingly, painfully gorgeous, the kind of beauty that leaves you aching. Charity had hit the nail on the head – she looked so much more human. Her skin was still pale but not the bloodless white I’d gotten used to. Her features were softer, her eyes kinder. Only a fool would mistake her for gentle or safe. She still held an edge of that otherness that marked the sidhe, a predator no less deadly for her perfect form. But I felt like I was seeing Molly for the first time in a long, long time. Not Lady Molly or Queen Molly, just my Molly. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted her before and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with her most, what I would claim as my birthday present.

“If you insist.” I agreed. “But remember, you said whatever I want. No matter what I ask you have to do it, right?”

“Are you questioning whether or not I’m a woman of my word, Harry?” Her eyes sparkled with repressed laughter. “Yes, weirdo, whatever you want. You been hiding some kind of absurd fetish from me, Boss?”

I didn’t deign to answer that question. “Alright, then get on the bed, no, on your side like, yeah, just like that.” She followed my commands, and once she was situated on her side I took a moment to appreciate her. Slender yet muscular shoulders, the gentle curve of her spine giving way to a supple ass and gorgeous, long legs. A vision of sensuality and perfection. Then I climbed into bed behind her, moving closer until the entire front of my body was flush against her. I threw my arm over her side, fingers resting lightly against her stomach, and whispered, “What I want more than anything else in the world right now, is to fall into a deep and restful sleep with you safe in my arms, and then to live happily ever after for the rest of our long lives.”

I could feel her shake with laughter as she snuggled in against me. “Then I guess we have no choice, we’ll just have to live happily ever after now. A promise is a promise.” She turned at an awkward angle to press her lips against mine. “I love you so much. Thank you. For everything.”

“Molls, you never have to thank me for anything. After everything you've done for me, for us?” I shook my head. “I love you too.”

“Even if I'm a high Queen of Faerie?” Her voice said she was teasing but her eyes told the truth of her fear.

“Always, as long as you're you. Come hell or high water, or high Queendom for that matter. No crown or title is going to change how I feel about you.” And then, as I thought about it I added, “But I understand if…if it changes things for you. It's a big change.”

“Idiot.” She breathed, like it was the sweetest thing she knew how to say. “I just risked the entire planet and existence as we know it to be able to be with you without hiding or worrying about assassination, and we still haven't scratched the surface of what I would do for you. I can't even imagine what life would be like without you running through my mind, without my whole heart belonging to you. Nothing, not even death was enough to stop me from loving you. Being Queen? That's nothing compared to how you make me feel. It doesn’t hold a candle to how much I love you.” She kissed me again and I melted against her.

The next thing I knew I was caught somewhere between crying and laughing, all of the anger, adrenaline, fear, worry, relief, every emotion I’d been tamping down, every thought I'd refused to think, it all came rushing out at once. Molly joined me, laughing with tears in her own sparkling eyes, kissing every inch of my face that she could reach. When we eventually exhausted ourselves I felt lighter, free of tensions I hadn't realized I’d been holding on to. We didn't say anything but we'd both survived enough awful situations to understand. I kissed the tip of her nose and she scrunched her face up, giggling, and just like that everything was okay.

Dawn had arrived somewhere in our hysterics, and light was starting to peek around the edges of the curtain when I finally stopped fighting the heaviness of my eyelids. Molly, who was snuggled up under my arm, safe and sound and undeniably mine, was either already asleep or close to it. I wasn’t a fool, I knew we didn't live in a fairy tale world even with all the magic and fairies and knights and queens. There was no riding off into the sunset to a life free of conflict or suffering. We'd survived the day, and won the war, but there would be other fights, other worries, other things that got in the way of our perfect fairy tale ending. Sometimes it would be monsters and villains and horrors from beyond the stars. Sometimes it would be arguments over something stupid I said, disagreements about how to raise our kids, fender benders, injuries, tense nights in hospital rooms, and all of the other stresses that are no less significant for their mundanity.

‘Happily ever after’ isn’t something that just comes to you, but it is possible. Like anything worthwhile in this world, it takes work and effort. You have to choose your battles, roll with the punches as they come. It doesn’t mean you’ll never hurt again, that you’ll never fight, never get mad, never cry. It just means that you’ll weather the storms together, and when the sun shines again, and mark my words it _will_ shine again, you’ll enjoy it together too. I wasn’t wishing for a life of perfect happiness, without sorrow or pain. As long as at the end of the day my life, our life together, was one I was happy with, that was a happily ever after in my book.

“ _Fuego.”_ Maggie’s voice rang out clear and bright for all the frustration on her face. She had her feet planted firmly in the snow, one arm outstretched toward the wooden dummy we’d erected in the backyard. Nothing happened. She stamped her foot, and more emphatically declared, “ _Fuego!”._ A gust of wind came past, whipping her hair across her face and she grumbled angrily to herself as she shoved it back into place. “Show me again.”

“You know it’s not about how you stand, princess. And if it was, you’ve got it down. You just have to keep practicing.” This encouragement was met with a flat glare. I sighed, and as slowly as I could so she could observe to her heart's content, I planted my feet, thrust out my hand, and said, “ _Fuego._ ” The dummy burned brightly.

“ _Ventas servitas._ ” Maggie snarled. The wind from her hand nearly blew the dummy over, and in the process extinguished my flames. “ _Fuego. Fuego! Fuego fuego fuego fuego FUEGO!!!!”_ She stood huffing and puffing, her breath forming little clouds in the air. Her target stared at her, completely free of flames.

“Why don’t we take a break?” I suggested gently. “We can try again tomorrow.”

“What’s the point?” She said glumly. “I'm a dud. I told you.”

I fought to hide my smile. “Everyone has different talents, kiddo. You’ve seen mom make illusions, right?” She nodded. “Okay, well watch this. _Noctus ex illuminos_.” I could have done better with concentration and a little more effort but not by much. I’d tried to make the training dummy look like me, and if you squinted and assumed that you were looking at a reflection in a funhouse mirror, and ignored that you could still see the wooden form underneath the translucent illusion, it almost did.

“You just messed up to make me feel better.” My daughter pouted. “You’re like, the best wizard. Everyone says so. You can’t be that bad at illusions.”

“Oh, but he really can,” Molly called, leaning in the doorway from the kitchen to the patio. I wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, but she was watching us with unveiled amusement. “He’s right though, Squirt. We’ve all got stuff we suck at. I can’t hurl fire around like your dad either.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You’re the Queen of Winter, mom. No one expects _you_ to be good with fire.”

“I wasn’t so great with ice either when I was still human.” There was a time when those words might have been bitter, and a time when I would have flinched at how cavalier she was in saying it, but we’d both made our peace with who and what she was. “Or wind. Or any kind of evocation, really. I mean, I could do it but,” she shrugged. “Not all of us are meant to explode and burn our way through every situation like _some_ people.”

“You know what they say. When God closes a door…” I trailed off. Molly arched an eyebrow. “Blast it off its hinges and walk right on through it.”

“I don't think that's what they say, no.” She laughed, then narrowed her eyes in Maggie's direction. “Hey, Maggie? ¿ _Hablas español, claro?”_

I'm sure my expression must have matched the surprised, baffled look on my daughter’s face. “ _Claro que si.”_ She responded _“¿Por qué?”_

They talked back and forth for a minute or two in Spanish, the exact details of the conversation lost on me. I found myself wishing I'd spent more time studying the language in high school instead of having mental conversations with Elaine. Since I couldn't understand or intelligently contribute to their discussion, I just watched them both, trying to figure out what they were talking about from body language alone. I felt for Maggie. She'd been trying so hard for weeks on end to cast fire. We'd done okay with small stuff, like lighting candles, but she couldn't seem to make the larger evocation work.

Molly had been right - Maggie's magic was heavily reliant on her emotions. I'd drawn on my own emotions countless times to power up and occasionally fuel my spells, but this was something different. Her energy seemed to come entirely from her feelings; anger, fear, happiness, it all worked. Channeling anger seemed like a great way to set her on the path to a full-blown warlock, so we'd been practicing using happy thoughts and memories. So far, she'd blown it out of the park with everything else we'd tried. The basics had been a breeze, even if it made me inwardly cringe to see how excited she was when I showed her how to use her amulet to track me. Something told me that normal twelve-year-olds couldn't care less whether or not their parents disappeared. We'd started evocation about a month ago, and she was getting good at everything except fire. Which was, of course, the one thing she cared most about.

Beside me, Maggie resumed her casting stance. The form didn't really matter other than as a mental tool for channeling. Maybe she'd do better with a focus item? Whatever Molly had said to her, she seemed recharged, her eyes burning with determination. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, thrust out her hand and yelled, “ _Incendo!”_ A column of flame roared it's way across the yard, melting a path in the snow on the way to engulf the target. My munchkin opened one eye, saw the blaze, and started jumping for joy. “It worked! Mom, it worked!”

“Way to go, Squirt.” She smiled, then looked to me. “Whenever you two are done blowing up the backyard, come in and scrub up. I've got that casserole from Mom in the oven and it should be ready soon.”

I looked at my grinning daughter then back to my wife. “We’ll be in in a few.” Molly rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'pyromaniacs' as she slid the door shut behind her, heading back inside. “That was awesome, kiddo. What did she say to you?”

Maggie, having blown out the flames again, was gearing up for another blast and smirked at me. “She said that just because you cast your spells in that weird mix of faux Latin and bad Spanish, doesn’t mean I have to. _Incendo!”_ The wooden target did its phoenix impression and she squeaked with joy. “ _Fuego_ isn’t a magic word for me since I was using it before I even knew that magic existed. It’s like if you ran around screaming 'fire'.”

It’s discouraging when you spend your entire life researching and studying to be the best wizard you can be, a paragon of magical wisdom and skill, and yet your apprentice and daughter have to school you in basic magic theory. I resisted the urge to facepalm, as I’d already lost enough credibility in front of the kid, and I didn’t need to compound it. “I guess that's true. Now, why don’t you put him out and we’ll work on your aim and focus so you don’t set the whole backyard on fire once the snow melts.”


	9. Chapter 9

“‘And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.’ He really does that, you know.” After dinner, Maggie sat on the couch in the living room, emphatically reading to her brother who lay cradled in my arms beside her. He'd just finished his own dinner (or at least his first dinner – I had quickly discovered first-hand that newborns and hobbits have roughly the same number of meals a day) and his wide blue eyes, so much like his mother's, watched his sister with fascination. “Do you think we'll see Santa again this year?”

I glanced over to my other side to see what the Winter Queen had to say about Kringle stopping by. She looked decidedly un-regal, in one of my t-shirts and a pair of baggy pajama pants. Half of her hair had fallen out of the messy bun she'd had it up in and hung in her face, which she did nothing about since she had already fallen asleep on my shoulder. Sleep had been at a premium in our house the last few days, and she certainly had more cause to be tired than I did. She had done all the hard work in delivering our early Christmas present, after all. “I don’t know pumpkin. I don’t think he reveals himself to most kids.” I said softly, not wanting to risk waking her. “He waits until you’re asleep. But I’m sure he’ll be here.”

As Maggie continued her story, I wondered if Kringle _would_ be here. I had been meaning to talk to him (in one of his forms at least) to thank him for his help. Whether he’d meant it or not (and I had a sneaking suspicion that he had) he’d been instrumental in the smooth transition of power and the relatively peaceful life we were living. But we’d had a busy November. We’d slept for almost a day after the battle on Demonreach, but once we were rested and had the chance to shower and eat and otherwise recover, Molly told me everything that had happened while we waited for her to return, and what had been decided for the future. The Mothers had been furious, but eventually, between the two of them, Molly and Sarissa had been able to talk sense into them and explain.

Holding all that power, especially with both mantles, had given Molly an idea and Sarissa was on board. The first part she had told everyone – unite the Courts. Everyone kept their land, everyone kept their kingdoms and castles and titles and power. But instead of wasting energy scheming against each other, with Summer trying to counter every single move Winter made, they’d work together. Mother Summer had surprised everyone by being the most violently opposed to this suggestion, but eventually, Mother Winter pointed out that the Night was coming on fast and with the current state of things maybe it would be best to have a united front. When I asked what that meant, Molly had avoided the question pointedly and I didn’t have any luck with subsequent attempts at clarity. She might look and feel more human, but there was no doubt that she was still a Sidhe Queen, after all.

The second part was harder to sell and was not something she was willing to discuss outside of the Court. Even in private, just the two of us, she went back and forth on whether or not to say anything. I didn’t pressure her but she eventually decided I needed to know. One Court with two Queens made watching the Gates easier, but it still meant one or the other woman had to either be at the Gates or invest someone else with their power temporarily to watch in their stead. More importantly, it didn’t solve the whole 'kidnapping kids to be raised for our army' problem. So Molly had proposed a new solution. The army would still exist, on a voluntary basis. There was no shortage of things in Faerie, especially in Winter, that wanted to fight and kill. But to supplement those who weren't so bloodthirsty, the Queens would each give up a portion of their power to create their own army, golems that were made with pure Summer or Winter power, designed to be the front line infantry.

Someone still needed to watch the Gates at all times, but with a more or less immortal force that could just be reassembled if they were defeated, it wouldn’t need to be a Queen, just anyone capable of holding a small portion of power to allow them to control the army. The regular troops were still needed, our golems could only do so much, but it avoided the need for conscripts. “Neither of the Mothers was going for it but I told them I was going to do it, even if I had to do it without their support.” She had explained.

“Would that have worked?” I asked, trying to calculate just how much power the Winter Queen alone had if she could create enough golems to keep a large scale battle going by herself.

Molly smirked. “Nope. Not well enough, and everyone there knew it. That's why they ultimately agreed.”

I stared at her blankly. “You killed your boss, and when the higher-ups called to discipline you, you refused to apologize, told them you were going to change their whole system, and then held all of reality hostage until you got your way.”

Her eyes glowed for a moment, and her satisfied smile spread up to them. “I believe in business it's called a 'hostile takeover’.” I probably should have been horrified, but all I felt was a fierce pride in my wife for somehow managing to pull off something more ballsy than I'd ever attempted.

So that was that. She'd managed to defeat an immortal force of nature, claim her power, make life better not just for us but for all of Faerie and somehow walk away more human than she'd been when it all started, courtesy of the amount of energy she'd invested in her army. Almost two months later, I was just now starting to get used to a Molly that actually had body heat but I wasn’t complaining.

“’Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!’” Maggie finished, closing the book and setting it on the pile. Next year we'd probably go over to Michael and Charity's for Christmas Eve storytime, but this year we'd decided to take it slow. As first-time newborn owners with only three days of experience under our belts, we were still getting the hang of things and too much excitement in one day sounded like it might be a bad thing for all of us. Since Molly was dead to the world next to me, I was pretty sure we made the right choice.

Michael Luke Dresden was a beautiful baby from the moment he was born, with Molly’s eyes and a few tufts of my dark hair. I know all parents think their babies are perfect, and we all say 'but really, mine actually _is'_ while loved ones smile and nod and don't bother contradicting us out loud, but I swear on my power he _was_ the most perfect, precious infant I’d ever seen. From the itty-bitty nails on his toes to the fuzz on top of his head, he was flawless. He looked up at me curiously, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of me, and I couldn't blame him. I've seen my reflection, I wouldn't know what to make of me either. Holding the warm little bundle of tiny limbs and blankets, I felt grossly underqualified and it felt like the kid was smart enough that he'd realize that sooner or later.

“He's so cute I feel like my heart is going to explode from adorable-overload,” Maggie commented, echoing my thoughts as we watched him yawn. “Do you think he likes me?”

“Of course, you’re the best big sister in the world,” I told her. “He's the luckiest baby ever, aren't you Mike?” The infant continued to stare at me, so I kissed his head in retaliation. “Just like I'm the luckiest dad to have both of you.”

Maggie opened her mouth to say something, then closed it tightly, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Eugh. I think the luckiest dad would have a baby with less stinky diapers.” The smell hit me a second after it hit her and it was truly foul.

“Fortunately, there's an easy fix for that.” I shifted as slowly as I could, trying to stand without disturbing Molly’s sleep. “Why don't you grab a couple more stories, we’ll go upstairs, get him changed and see if we can't get him to nap for a couple hours before we head out, okay?”

I had worried about how Maggie would adjust to having a flesh and blood younger sibling, one who required significantly more of our time and attention than Bonnie, but she was just as excited as Molly and I. She held him and rocked him when he cried and helped out wherever she could. I made it to my feet without waking her, but Mike decided that was the best time for him to start making fussy noises and Molly’s eyes blinked open at the sound. “Whass, oh, uh, Mikey?” She asked, intelligently.

“He’s fine, hun. I’ve got him. You can relax. Just enjoy your nap.” I assured her. Surprising no one except herself, Molly was a natural at motherhood, but she was having some trouble remembering that there was no need to do 100% of the baby duty by herself. I couldn’t feed him without her, but I was getting comfortable with the diapers and swaddling and all the other stuff and I was more than willing to do my fair share.

“No, but, stories?” She mumbled.

“Go back to sleep, Mom.” Maggie insisted, pulling the Christmas-themed throw blanket off of the back of the couch to cover Molly. “We’ll get you when it's time to go. We can read stories tomorrow.” This apparently satisfied her concerns, since she snuggled in against the arm of the couch and fell almost immediately back to sleep.

It had been a mild winter so far for Chicago, which meant that temperatures stayed in the thirties and forties and we only had a few days of white-out conditions. On our drive over to Saint Mary’s, the roads were perfectly clear of snow and ice. We made it with a few minutes to spare, even after getting everyone out of the car and coordinated. We were set upon by a swarm of Carpenters as we moved to take our seats, everyone eager for a look at the newest member of the family. I could feel Molly’s tension as she handed him carefully over to her mother, the little moment of panic about letting someone else touch him. It was irrational but I understood it all too well. He’d been asleep (so far, his favorite pastime) but his eyes opened as he slipped into his grandmother's arms and there was a collective “aww” from the small crowd that had gathered. Michael and Charity had already held him the night he was born, of course, but we'd been keeping visitors to a minimum until our life settled down a bit, so this was the first time he'd met his aunts and uncles.

Everyone had their chance to hold him before the service mercifully started and we all took our seats. I trusted my in-laws, but Molly and I both felt better with our little guy tucked safely in his car seat carrier. The thing was part of a set that cost more than most of the cars I’d ever owned but it was damned convenient and we weren't hurting for cash. I envied his ability to fall instantly asleep the moment he was snuggled in, and even more his ability to sleep through a dozen hymns complete with the (hauntingly beautiful, but undeniably loud) pipe organ. As hard as my body tried to mimic his, I jerked awake every time a new song started.

“You can go out to the car,” Molly whispered, her face caught somewhere between amused and sympathetic. “Or just go home. Everyone will understand.”

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” I lied with a smile. “C'mon, you know I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

“Cause you’re _so_ jazzed about going to church.” She replied.

“Be careful. You shouldn’t be lifting something as heavy as that sarcasm right now.” That one earned me an elbow in the ribs and a mischievous grin on her face. “I'm 'jazzed' about being here, yeah. Not for the church, but for the family.”

Most other people would have looked at me strangely or pointed out that I didn't need to come to a church service for my family, they'd still be my family either way. But this was different. This was a tradition, something Molly’s family had been doing since she was born, something that was so important to them all that Molly had gone last year even though she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stand on holy ground. It wasn't important to me because of the religion I didn't follow, or because I had any special feelings about Christmas. It was important to me because it was important to Molly, Michael, Charity and the rest of the Carpenter clan. And this year it was twice as important because I was a part of that family, and so were our kids. This was a tradition that Maggie and Mike would grow up with, that maybe they'd pass on to their own kids one day in the (very, very, VERY distant) future.

As someone who’d grown up largely without family traditions, bounced back and forth from orphanages and foster homes, never in one place long enough to celebrate the same holiday there twice in a row, being a part of something like that meant a little something more to me than it did the next guy. Not everyone would have understood, especially without an explanation, but Molly smiled gently and I knew she got it. She took my hand and squeezed it. “Alright, but if you start snoring mom's going to spaz.”

“Lucky for us I don’t snore.” Molly snorted but left it at that. I really did try not to fall asleep. I didn’t succeed, but I tried. It was a beautiful service, what I caught of it at least, and any opportunity to hear Molly sing was welcomed. She looked radiant as always, in a low cut dress with a red, green and black tartan pattern. If she was tired and sore (and I had no doubt she was) she didn't show it, standing proud and tall as anyone else, voice ringing and eyes bright. I watched her, thinking of how far we’d come in a single year. If either of us had known then what the future had in store…I’d almost lost her. I’d almost lost myself for awhile there. But through everything, we’d come out on the other side, not only alive and well but better, so much better.

I was starting to think maybe I’d had it backward all these years – I’d thought that every time I got too happy, the universe sent something to knock me down and kick me until I surrendered. Standing in Saint Mary of the Angels, with Mrs. Molly Dresden by my side, our son and daughter on either side of us, secure in the knowledge that in the morning we'd all be seated in Michael and Charity’s living room watching the kids open presents, I started thinking maybe all of the god awful shit I’d been through had just been the price I’d had to pay for all this good. If so, it was worth it.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the sounds of fussing from the pew beside me. Someone had finally woken up and I already recognized the tell-tale signs that he was ready to start loudly vocalizing his displeasure about the state of things. Molly, always on alert, shifted in her seat to reach over and grab him but I beat her to the punch just as he let out his first wail. “I'll get him settled down. Just stay here and relax.” When she opened her mouth to argue, I added, “It'll keep me awake.”

I picked up the tiny human along with his layers of swaddling and held him carefully to my shoulder, shushing him softly the entire way into the back rooms of the church. He completely ignored me, continuing to stubbornly bawl his little heart out. I guess with his parents I shouldn't have been surprised that the kid didn't take orders well. It hadn’t even been a full hour since we'd fed him, his diaper was clean, he wasn't happy in the blankets, he wasn't happy out of them, he was just plain miserable for the sake of being miserable. I tried holding him on his stomach, on his side, against my shoulder, against my chest, none of it appeased him. I was doing an awkward, shuffling sort of dance when I started singing and like magic, the waterworks stopped. I was feeling rather proud of myself, until I turned around and nearly dropped him in surprise, letting loose a few choice words that I shouldn't have said in front of my son, especially not in a church.

Uriel, The Watcher, Flame of God, Mr. Sunshine himself, stood there making silly faces at my newborn. Michael didn't laugh, but he looked too confused to remember to cry for the moment. I held him a little tighter to me instinctively. Uriel was a Good Guy™ of that I had no doubt, but that didn’t necessarily mean I trusted him around my children. “He's beautiful.” The archangel told me, meeting my eyes. There was a whisper in the way he said it that made it clear he wasn't offering idle praise.

“Gets that from his mom.” I agreed.

“May I?” He held out his arms. He must have seen the hesitation in me because he gave me a warm smile. “I mean him no harm, of that you have my word.”

“Sorry,” I answered, reluctantly handing the child over. “It's just, your team hasn’t always had the best track record with firstborn sons, you know.”

“I assure you, you and your family have nothing to fear from our 'team'.” Uriel sounded amused at the thought, bouncing Mike gently. “Michael.” He cooed at him. “That's an auspicious name you bear.”

“Never met a better man than his grandfather.” I shrugged. “It felt right.”

“Still, he’ll have big shoes to fill.”

“No.” It came out harsher than I intended but I didn’t regret it. “No. No shoes to fill, no epic destiny, no high expectations. It’s just a name.”

“There’s no such thing as 'just' a name. Surely you know that by now, Harry.” He held the baby out in front of him, getting a better look. “But it’s a good name you’ve given him. Michael Dresden. With his lineage, I have no doubts that he’ll live up to it.”

“The first name or the last one?”

“Both.” Uriel glanced to me, silver-green eyes sparkling even in the low light of the empty hall. “I would offer my blessing, with your permission.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason I should object?”

He shook his head. “I only wish to offer what little I can to him. A gift for a friend’s namesake. But I am loath to touch the Winter Queen's child with my power without express permission. She has been courteous and cordial toward us in the past, but one can never be too careful.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yeah, of course, he was technically a child of Winter and his mother was, well, at least some kind of demi-goddess, right? Molly wouldn’t be upset if an archangel offered his blessings to our son, but the Queen of Air and Darkness might not appreciate the agent of a foreign deity touching a child that belonged to her without authorization. “Thank you, but yes, as his father and King Consort of Winter you have my permission. If she objects, I’ll take the blame.” 'King Consort'. It still sounded crazy. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to it.

Uriel bowed his head, eyes closed and lips moving soundlessly for a moment before he spoke a single word aloud. It wasn’t one my brain could process, sounding more like the chiming of a bell than speech, filling my head with the most beautiful white noise any time I tried to recall it. Without knowing why, it brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t stop smiling as he handed my son back to me. “No matter your wishes for him, I think he is destined for great things.”

“How do you know?” It didn't sound as fearful when I asked it out loud as it was in my head, thankfully. I already loved my son with all my heart. I had since the moment I knew he existed. But I couldn't help but worry. Not just the normal things a dad fears for his kids (though I had no shortage of those worries) but bigger things. What kind of life would he have? He looked human, true, but so did his mother and yet…And at the end of the day, Molly and I had both dabbled in black magic once upon a time, apparently something that wasn't too uncommon in my family tree. Not to mention the host of enemies he and Maggie would inherit as our kids. I knew all too well how a parent’s legacy could have a profound impact on a child’s life.

Uriel put a firm hand on my shoulder, and I was sure he had heard my unasked questions anyway. “Greatness is in his blood. It is the destiny of all mankind.”

“Unless we choose otherwise,” I added and he nodded.

“Precisely.” He tucked a bit of the blanket into itself, looking for all the world like a doting uncle. “And he has excellent footsteps to follow. Like his grandparents. And his mother. And you.”

“I’m not a praying man, but if you think it’ll help I’ll start offering prayers to your God and any others that he doesn’t follow in my footsteps.”

Uriel cocked his head at me. “Are you unhappy with your life?”

“I’ve never been happier or more grateful for my life than I am right now. But the things I've done to get here…” I resisted the urge to flex my fingers, reminding myself that it was only phantom blood on them, nothing more. “I wouldn't wish the paths I've walked on anyone, especially not my kids.”

“He won’t know your past as well as he’ll know your future. You are not your mother. Your son will know you by more than just the stories told about you.”

“It's creepy when you read my thoughts like that,” I muttered.

He gave a short laugh. “I don't need to read your thoughts to understand your heart. You are a good man, Harry. You needn't worry so much.” Uriel turned, staring at one of the small stained glass windows set into the wall beside us in contemplative silence. I suddenly felt awkward standing there, as if I was imposing in some way. Stupid, since I was there first and he had shown up out of nowhere, but I wasn’t sure if I should stay or head back to the sanctuary and leave him alone. Right as I decided to turn and rejoin Maggie and Molly, he cleared his throat. “This is yours.”

I eyed the sword he held out to me, hilt-first. “Uh, yeah. That’s why it was in my umbrella stand.” I wanted to make a quip about the decidedly un-angelic qualities of breaking into someone’s house to steal a holy sword since it had been in the stand when we left, but something in his expression stopped me. He continued silently offering me Amorrachius's hilt and my stomach knotted. “I’ve already agreed to be it’s custodian until we find a worthy Knight.”

Uriel nodded. “This is yours, Sir Dresden.” He put just the slightest emphasis on my title.

Those knots in my stomach? I think they dropped right out of my body along with the rest of my organs. I knew what he meant. I'd known what he meant the moment I saw the sword in his hand. It was just too crazy for me to believe it. “I'm not that kind of Knight.”

“You could be.” He said it conversationally as if it were as easy as breathing. Maybe it was since I was having difficulty managing that past the lump in my throat.

“I don't think my boss, also known as my wife, would be too happy if I jumped ship. I’m not sure I _could_ jump ship, even if I wanted to.”

“A man can never know what he’s capable of until he tries.” Something passed across his face, there for just a second and then it was gone, an emotion I couldn’t name. Maybe mortals didn’t have a word for it. “I doubt anyone will try to separate you and Molly again in the near future, and any who do…I’m no fool. No one is asking you to break your oaths or your vows. I think you’ll find our goals are often aligned with those of Winter, even if we go about it by different means. It is not uncommon for our Knights to have other jobs. Think of this as part-time. Or a hobby.”

“I’ve got enough hobbies, thanks.” He still stood there, sword in hand, stoic expression on his youthful face. I shook my head at him with a huff of laughter. “You’ve got the wrong guy, Sunshine. The Almighty and I…I can respect Him but I’ve got my own faith and He doesn’t factor into it. Nothing personal. I’m just not cut out to be an anything of the Cross.”

He blinked slowly, deliberately I thought, since I doubt angels need to blink. “The sword of faith is currently a lightsaber. The sword of hope is wielded by a man who has met angels and gods and still insists that he cannot be sure of our existence. No one is asking you to change your beliefs. Indeed, without your faith, you wouldn’t be worthy of wielding Amorrachius.”

I raised an eyebrow. “If I wasn’t a heathen practitioner, I wouldn’t be worthy of carrying a holy sword?”

“Do you know why Waldo Butters has done well as a Knight of the Cross?” I shrugged, and that was answer enough for him. “His never-ending belief that good will ultimately triumph over evil, that it must, at all costs.”

“I’ve seen good get its ass kicked too many times to believe that. Good _should_ triumph over evil, but it doesn’t always.”

I expected an argument, something about the long game, but he continued like I hadn’t said anything. “Sanya has known some of the lowest depths a human life can offer, yet no matter what comes his way, he greets it with a smile or a joke, unafraid. His relentless optimism in the face of adversity is what makes him an excellent Knight.”

“It doesn’t hurt that he's good with a gun, I bet.” Mike started fussing again and I rocked gently side to side to settle him down.

“Michael Carpenter is one of the finest men I've ever had the privilege to know, and he was perhaps the greatest Knight to ever hold Amorrachius.”

“Of course. He's the poster boy for Christian values, _real_ Christian values, love thy neighbor and turn the other cheek and do unto others. All that stuff. He was made to be a Knight of the Cross.”

“Yes. Although you misunderstand. Michael is not a good man because of his faith. Michael has faith because he is a good man. He has faith in the Lord, in his family, his friends and himself, because for Michael faith comes from love.” The word struck a chord in me as he said it, like a snowflake unexpectedly falling on your nose – the cold no less startling for the gentleness and transience of the touch. “That is how he came to bear Amorrachius. The sword is destined for the hands of a man who values love above all else, above his pride, his wealth, his comfort, his kingdom, even above his own self. So no, I don't think your faith will be a problem. You've made it clear time and again what you value most. Now as I said, _this_ is _yours_.”

I reached for it before I realized what I was doing, shifting Mike into one arm. My heart pounded in my chest, my throat, my ears. It was a great honor and a terrible responsibility. A chance to do good, real honest good work in the world, no grey areas, no ends justifying the means, just black and white. Bad guys repent or face justice at the end of a sword. I would be a hero, a shining example for Maggie and Mike. I could be like – Mike's tiny little fingers curled around my thumb where I held him, distracting me completely. I looked down at him, then back up at the sword and smiled. “If I take that sword, I’ll be following in Michael’s footsteps.”

“Big shoes to fill.” Uriel smiled back, sadly, already understanding.

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m gonna skip right to the retirement.” Have you ever made an archangel sigh? I have. “Michael is a hero. I can’t even guess how many lives he’s saved. Hell, I can’t even guess how many times he’s saved _my_ life alone. But earlier today, I read Christmas stories with my wife and kids, sitting in front of our fireplace, watching the lights sparkle on our tree. I will never in a million years forget today for that handful of hours we spent together. The stories on Christmas Eve thing, it’s a tradition for the Carpenter kids. Do you know why?” His smile was gone and I thought that was a yes but I continued on anyway. “Because when Molly got old enough she started to worry when it was Christmas Eve and her daddy still wasn’t home to put the angel on top of the tree. They all did, once they started to understand why he always disappeared. So Charity had to come up with ways to distract them until daddy came home or they fell asleep, whichever came first.

“Michael is a loving, doting father. When he was home, he was the best dad those kids could ever hope for. I'll never be even half the dad Michael is and was. When he was home.” I heard the hard edge to my voice but couldn’t control it enough to hide it. “I don’t want to be a 'when he’s home' dad. I don’t want to miss moments like my son’s first Christmas or my daughter’s school play. I don’t want to turn around and find that my little kids aren’t so little and I wasn’t there to watch them grow up. Maybe I'm just not as strong as Michael or as devoted, but I won't put my kids through that and I can't leave them. Not for the whole world.”

The sword of love glistened in Uriel's hand like it was reflecting a brilliant light in the empty, dimly lit hall. His face was still somber but his eyes were smiling. “Yes, you have made it abundantly clear where you stand when forced to choose between the world and one of your children. Take the sword.”

“As a custodian, nothing more,” I warned.

“As you say.” He inclined his head, and I reluctantly took the hilt. “You will know it’s wielder when the time comes for it to rejoin the fight.”

“It's not going to be me.” He ignored me, smoothing a few of Mike’s fine hairs against his head. “It's not.” I insisted stubbornly as he smiled and silently gripped my shoulder. “I’m out. I’m done with the hero nonsense. No more wizard for hire. No more paranormal investigations. Unless Molly needs me for Court business, I’m Harry Dresden: stay at home dad. That’s it.”

“Congratulations, to you and Molly.” I turned to watch him as he walked past me, heading further down the hall away from the sounds of worship and merriment. The service must have come to a close since I could hear the hum of a hundred different conversations. “Say hello to Michael for me. Merry Christmas to you all.”

“I'm retired, angel!” I called after him. “I'm not changing my mind!”

“Harry?” Behind me, silhouetted in the doorway to the sanctuary, was Molly. A frown creased her brow, turning her supple lips. With the lights behind her and the faint glow of her eyes (only visible in the dark unless she was calling on Winter), I thought she looked more like an angel than Mr. Sunshine on his best day. “Who are you talking to? Is everything – is that a sword? Why do you have a sword?!”

“I just got a job offer,” I explained, allowing her to take Mike from me. At the dangerous look she gave me I hastened to add, “I turned it down.”

“Yet you’re still holding it.”

“For safekeeping, just like I was before.” I kissed her, slow and soft at first but she kissed me back and in short order I had to pull away, reminding myself that we were in a church and even if we weren't, continuing down that road was only going to lead to frustration for us both for at least several weeks. “I'm your Knight alone, my Queen.” I said it jokingly, mostly, and from her 'you’re an idiot, but you’re my idiot’ lopsided smile I could tell that's how she, mostly, took it.

“Alright then, my Knight, why don't you wrangle up the princess so we can head back to our castle and maybe catch ten or fifteen minutes of uninterrupted sleep at the same time?”

“I live to serve.” She giggled about that the entire way back to the car.

By New Year's Eve, I wasn’t sure if we'd adjusted to our new life or if we'd just managed to reach a state of insomnia that transcended the need for sleep, but either way, I felt more human less zombie. That didn't mean I was excited when Molly told me we were going to be having a party – I had planned to take turns napping until the ball dropped – but since I wasn't the one with stitches below the belt I couldn’t really complain. Once everyone was over, I had to admit it was a good idea. Our friends got to fawn over Mike, and Molly and I both had a chance to socialize with actual adults that weren't Michael and Charity for the first time in weeks.

My repeated assertion that I was, in fact, retired was met with skepticism and a few outright laughs from Karrin and Thomas. “Come on, we both know you're only out until the next big bad comes a-knockin'.” Murphy teased.

I shook my head. “That's going to be someone else's problem.”

“Yeah, it'll be ours,” Will said lightly. It wasn't accusatory like it might have been but it was the truth and it stung anyway.

“Only if you get involved. It's Marcone's city. It's been his city for years now. Let him solve its problems.”

“And when someone comes looking for revenge?” Karrin asked. “You gonna turn tail and run?”

I ground my teeth, ready to snap, but Molly slid one hand under the hem of my shirt, pressing cool fingers against the small of my back and she answered for me. “We don’t run. Anyone or anything stupid enough to bring trouble to our door won’t make that mistake, or any other, ever again. I don’t think anyone here would accuse Harry of being a coward. He'll stand his ground, as will I, with all of Winter behind us. But we’re not starting the fight.”

“Ah, now I get it.” Will elbowed me with a grin. “The Mrs. doesn’t like you fighting, so you’re stepping down. You should have just said as much. Georgia keeps me on a pretty short leash too. I understand.”

“Not short enough, apparently,” Molly commented dryly. “And 'the Mrs.’ is happy to see him do whatever he damn well wants. You think _I_ would make Harry stop playing the hero? Why do you think I fell for him in the first place?”

I leaned down to kiss her and smiled. “Are you saying you won’t love me anymore if I’m not kicking ass and taking names on a daily basis?”

Her eyes sparkled. “You mean getting your ass kicked, and somehow still coming out on top? I’m pretty sure I won’t stop loving you, even if you go whole days, months or even years without getting concussed, bruised and beaten. But no, Billy, I’m not making him do anything.”

“I know,” Will answered, glancing at his daughter where she sat coloring on our coffee table. “It'll suck without you but we get it.”

“Let's just appreciate that if he doesn’t take on dangerous cases and poke his nose where it doesn’t belong, none of us get dragged along for the ride.” Thomas slapped me on the back.

We had an entire chorus of voices counting down til midnight, and as the clock struck twelve I pulled Molly to me, lifting her up and kissing her soundly until we were both breathless. “Happy New Year, Molls.” I murmured against her lips, setting her gently down.

“You’re damn right it is.” She gave me a quick peck, her arms still resting on my shoulders. “Happy New Year.”

Molly had spent the better part of the last week working on illusions with Maggie, and while my daughter was no one-woman rave, the two of them together managed to pull off a faux fireworks display to rival the prior year. A year before the three of us had stood here, on the same back patio, and I'd thought my life was perfect then. Now I held my son, pointing at the bright lights in the sky as if he could actually make sense of my words and gestures, and I watched the bursts reflected in his wide blue eyes. My mother stood beside me, one arm around my shoulders, the other around Thomas’s. He looked like he wanted to be unhappy about it, but I knew he wasn't, not really. All around us friends and family stood chatting quietly, watching my wife and daughter decorate the night sky.

I couldn't help but think of my conversation with Uriel. In the days since Christmas, I'd thought about his words and wondered if I'd made the right decision. It was selfish, really, wasn’t it? Of course I wanted to be home with my family, just like Michael always had. I'm sure Waldo wished he could spend more time with Andi, Sanya with Karrin. But they all knew that their work was necessary, they did what had to be done, what no one else could do. And wasn’t that more important than what they wanted as individuals?

Mike squiggled in the crook of my arm, and when I looked down at him he was smiling at me. No, I know he wasn't smiling _at_ me, and it wasn't even an expression of happiness, he was too new yet for any of that. But I knew I’d made the right choice. I wanted to earn that smile, and I couldn’t do that if I had one foot out the door for half his life. And Maggie, she was the happiest I'd seen her in months, all smiles and laughter and wide-eyed excitement. She had a gift, no doubt about that, and I was almost as excited about teaching her as she was to learn. She still had night terrors, sometimes of the Red Court, but sometimes it was more recent events and I couldn’t bear those. I can withstand a hell of a lot of pain, but holding my sobbing kid, reassuring her that I’m still here, that she’s not alone…it’s a special kind of hurt and I’m powerless before it. Even those nightmares were happening less and less though, thankfully.

Maybe Uriel just misunderstood me. He said he knew what I valued more than anything else in the world, which is why he offered me Amorrachius and he was right, almost. Love. That’s what he’d meant. _'For love will men mutilate themselves and murder rivals. For love will even a peaceful man go to war. For love, man will destroy himself, and that right willingly._ ’ Mab had known, she had always known. And I thought maybe she'd understood as well, some part of her anyway. Love was at the core of everything I'd ever done, every bad decision and every good one too. It was the one thing above all else that guided my actions, the entire course of my life.

But Mab had realized what Mr. Sunshine hadn’t – _nothing_ was more important. Yes, if I had to I would risk life and limb, I would sacrifice everything else, including myself if push came to shove, for those I love. I would pick up his sword in a heartbeat if I thought I’d need it to keep Maggie and Mike safe, just as I’d done on Halloween. But that wasn’t the end of it. I had caused chaos, committed genocide for Maggie. I’d been willing to let the world collapse if it meant keeping her safe. And I’d been willing to do the same for Molly and our son. I hadn't cared about the Balance or Courts or even the Gates when you got right down to it, as much as I'd cared about them.

Love was my guide, my compass, my North Star but I wasn't Michael. I didn't have love for the world, for gods and angels and my fellow man. I wasn’t a good guy, not really. I was just a man who followed my heart. For years, it had led me around, to the lowest points of my life and the highest. It had saved me, killed me, saved me again, and again, and again. It felt like I’d spent most of my life running from one catastrophe to another, always in pursuit of love or in defense of it. If I picked up that sword I wouldn't stop running, not until something stopped me. The problem is, I wouldn’t be following my heart this time. Surrounded by my family, the family Molly and I had built together, my heart was right here and it wasn't going anywhere.

I watched the fireworks light up the sky. It was the dawning of a new year and with it a new chapter of my life. I had never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before, I'll say it again: I just want good things for Molly. She deserves a happily ever after. And, I guess, maybe Harry does too. If you insist. 
> 
> This fic has been my baby, my pride and joy, and my obsession for over two years now. It started out as something I was writing for myself, and then it became something I was writing because I HAD to write it and the characters wouldn't leave me alone until I put it all down on (metaphorical) paper. And now I hope it's something that you enjoyed reading as well. Either way, thank you for coming along for the ride and for sticking it out through this insanely, ridiculously long fic. I'm pretty sure this final word count is higher than any two real Dresden books put together at this point, and I am definitely no Jim Butcher, so I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my ramblings and half-baked ideas. It means the world to me!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I didn't mean to leave everyone hanging on such a dark note, but it turns out that while staying in my house for weeks on end and avoiding all other humans sounds like a dream come true, when it becomes a legal and medical requirement instead of an option it triggers the same kind of claustrophobic anxiety that being locked in the trunk of a car would cause. I couldn't handle "posting the last part of my baby on the internet for strangers to read and potentially hate" anxiety on top of it. 
> 
> But I've either burned out my allotment of anxiety for the month already or just finally adjusted to the new normal, so (with some aggressive support/insistence/threatening from my wife) I finally decided to just rip the band-aid off and post. I hope you like it and that it was worth the wait!


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